Wide grey skies
by thosepreciouswalls
Summary: When you've had too much for too long you don't travel to go somewhere, you travel to leave something behind. You go away to see something new, to get a break, and to be alone. Sometimes it's a choice you make, sometimes it's a choice made for you, and maybe in the end it doesn't matter.
1. Chapter 1

Full summary: When you've had too much for too long you don't travel to go somewhere, you travel to leave something behind. You go away to see something new, to get a break, and to be alone. Sometimes it's a choice you make, sometimes it's a choice made for you, and maybe in the end it doesn't matter.

Hermione Granger has done three months of her one year on a dairy farm the first time she comes across the worker from the farm next door. He runs on light feet across the mountainside, silver hair surprisingly upright in the wind, and she decides to go and introduce herself. Sometimes it's the people you meet while looking for isolation that makes all the difference.

* * *

AN: This is something I found on my hard drive, a project I started several years ago. The last days I've been playing with the idea of continuing it past the three chapters I wrote back then. It takes place maybe seven or eight years after the last Harry Potter book and probably less than a year after the manga end of Naruto. For Naruto I've mostly watched the anime, but without the fillers and cut after the manga, so I'm somewhere in between the two. With Harry Potter this is based solely off the books. It's been a while for both of them, but I hope the characters aren't much more OOC than explained by the time gaps and change of environment, and that I haven't made any glaringly obvious mistakes with the plots or universes. Please let me know if that's the case!

* * *

Hermione weaves her way up the side of the mountain. Her goal is currently hidden behind a small incline, but she knows his general direction and should be able to see him soon enough. It's been over a month since Kristín told her that there was a new worker at the farm next door, but only the last week has he shown himself, running on light feet across the mountainside. Curiosity is deeply ingrain in Hermione, a trait that has both saved and put her in danger more times than she can count. Now it's driving her up the mountainside in search of an unknown neighbour to break up a boring day.

The last months have improved Hermione's physique noticeably, but the steep grassy slopes still have her winded by the time she reaches the platform where she saw him fling himself out on the ground. He's sitting up now, legs crossed in front of him in a relaxed manner that makes the pose seem comfortable. She's never seen a hair looking so natural while styled to stand almost straight up, held in place only by a headband, and she's spent her teenage years in a school of magic.

"Hi," Hermione says, making a small wave that was not part of her plan. She's sure it made her look ridiculous, but she's never cared much about that. "I'm Hermione Granger, I work down with Kristín and Ingo." She gestures down at the farm below them. "Mind if I join you?"

"I have a feeling you intend to." The guy raises his eyebrows. His tone is dry but also possibly amused as far as Hermione can tell. It's a bit hard reading him when most of his face is covered by some kind of mask. The temperature isn't bad enough to warrant one, but maybe for someone who hasn't lived in Scotland this qualifies as cold against bare skin.

Hermione lowers herself down where she has a stone to lean against, knowing she won't pull of the easy grace of the guy a few feet away. Also, she really needs to stop thinking of him as _the guy_. "So, will I have to ask for your name?" She says and the guy's eyes fold into what she assumes is a smile.

"Hata… Kakashi Hatake." He says. By the sound of it he's from a country that puts family names first.

Silence falls as Hermione waits for Kakashi to continue, but he doesn't. She watches the yellow grass bending in the wind for a moment before she decides that she can do without the awkwardness. "You work at Heimstaðir?"

"Yes." Kakashi says. "I take care of the sheep when Sunna and Þorir work." His intonation gives away none of his feelings on the matter.

"We have dairy cows." Hermione offers when silence is once again about to fall. "I help Kristín with the milking and feeding twice a day since Ingo's back can't take it anymore. This is their last year running the farm before their daughter and her husband takes over in January. They're spending one last year in freedom travelling the world. I live in what's becoming their house down there." She points to the smaller of the two houses, right by the road that will half a mile later connect to Heimstaðir's drive.

"It's nice having my own space." Hermione goes on when Kakashi doesn't break in. "If a bit lonely sometimes." She's looking at Kakashi who mostly looks out across the valley. There's still snow on the peaks and in the places the sun can't reach this early in the year.

"So, how come you ended up in Iceland?" It's a forced question, pushed forward by her trying to break up her stream of consciousness and turn this into a dialogue.

"Why does anyone end up anywhere?" Kakashi answers blandly. He smiles, and Hermione recognize the avoidance for what it is. "You?" It's the first time Kakashi does anything to keep the conversation going. Hermione would have appreciated it more if it wasn't obviously done to distract her. Or if it wasn't monosyllabic.

"I think I mostly had to get away." Hermione thinks out loud. No one here has asked her before, and she hasn't exactly put it into words. When she left she told people she wanted to see the geysers and the horses, try out the country life, that sort of thing, but that wasn't it. This trip had never been about going _to_ something, it was about what she left behind.

"I've..." She fades out, uncertain about what she was going to say. Kakashi's looking at her now, she can feel it, but she keeps her eyes on the horizon. "Maybe I just need to find myself again." When she says it it feels right. After everything, after Ron, after leaving the magical world, after trying her best to keep it together at a non-magical education, she'd given up. She needs to get her feet back under her. To get away from the people who keep her being someone she is more and more convinced isn't her.

It's slightly uncharacteristic for Hermione to be so upfront with something she feels insecure about. She's used to knowing the answers and speaking them out loud. At the same time she's here to make changes, and she is tired of being herself. Hermione had been the kind of girl who didn't care what other's thought of her. She used to believe that while not everyone would appreciate her those who did at least liked _her_, not someone she was pretending to be. It had been unpleasant realizing she's lost that confidence, and worse recognizing that she has traits that are downright unpleasant. Change it is then.

"So, for how long have you been here?" Kakashi's question leads them onto safer ground. Apparently, he can keep a conversation going just fine when he's presented with topic he wants to steer clear of. Hermione supposes she should be grateful

"Since New Year's." She answers. "So about three months. The rumours say you came about a month ago?"

"There's rumours about me?" Kakashi raises his eyebrows in question and Hermione laughs. She gets the feeling he doesn't mind.

"Of course there's gossip. This is the countryside, not much happens and people need something to talk about. I don't know more than when you came though, I don't speak Icelandic so I miss a lot. How long are you here for?"

"I need to be back sometime in the autumn, so maybe until then." Kakashi's tone seldom leaves room for follow-up questions Hermione notices. He is friendly enough, but he's not the easiest person to speak with.

"I'll be here until a week before Christmas." She says instead. "That might leave Kristín alone with the milking for a couple of days before her daughter comes home, but my parents would have fit if I didn't show up for the holidays. I'm an only child and I went to boarding school so Christmas and the summers have always sort of been sacred family time. Since I don't live at home in the summers anymore Christmas is just, I don't know, Christmas you know?"

"Where I come from we don't really celebrate Christmas." Kakashi says.

Kakashi turns out to be from an island outside Japan, and Hermione explains the basics of a British Christmas to him. She tells him of when her grandparents where alive, how they're down to just her and her parents now and how she sometimes wishes she'd have a sibling. She also paints the non-magical picture of Christmas with the Weasleys, and the bewilderment of her loving but decorous parents as they got pulled into the pandemonium that is her ex boyfriend's family.

In the end the damp windy cold gets to her. She says her goodbyes and leaves Kakashi sitting in the grass looking indifferent even if he's only dressed in a long sleeve shirt and a vest. It makes her long for warming charms. There is no such thing here though. The magic in Iceland is wild and untamed, shaped like the land it springs from and unreliable in its reactions to any wand-work. Her reason for choosing Iceland stems partly from this. Hermione still carries her wand of course, has been since the day she started Hogwarts. Even if she's left the magical community almost two years ago she feels naked and vulnerable without it.

As Hermione settles down at her kitchen table with a cup of tea her mind has already started corrupting the encounter. It amazes her how good her brain is at this kind of things. _You ruined his afternoon,_ it's telling her. _Why would he want to listen to you? You talk too much. He's way too cool to hang out with you. _She tells it to shut up, but the tea feels heavy in her stomach when she meets up with Kristín to clean the stables before the evening milking.

* * *

AN: Any thoughts? I'd be happy to know what you think about this, and if it's worth working on.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I've decided to care less while writing this and so far it's been a great deal of fun working like that. It's strange, working with materials I wrote so many years ago, but I think I'll keep at it for a while. There'll be no promises of regular updates for this, and it runs the risk of getting major plot holes or characters turning out OOC or any number of things that come with next to no planning, but I'm going for it! The three first chapters are being revised to get the worst mistakes out, and I'm working on a fourth. Let's see where it leads us (and let me know if you've got ideas for where that might be, maybe I can make it happen).

* * *

For most of his first month at Heimstaðir Kakashi sleeps. Twice a day he goes to the barn and feeds the sheep, in the evenings he eats dinner with his hosts Sunna and Þorir, and the rest of the time he spends in his bedroom. The waking hours are divided between lying on his bed looking at the ceiling or sitting in his armchair looking out the window. It's hard to say if the hollowness of his mind wears him down or bores him out, but when it does he falls asleep. Usually he wakes feeling even more tired. If this is some kind of undetectable genjutsu draining his energy, it's been around since the end of the Fourth War. Given the company Kakashi keeps it is unlikely such a thing would have gone unnoticed, but you could never know. He tries disrupting his chakra flow a few times, to make sure, but nothing changes.

It comes to the point where he feels like sleeping forever might be a valid lifegoal. He orders himself to get up then, and only a life of military discipline allows him to get dressed and go outside. Whatever this is, especially if it's a genjutsu, he will not let it beat him.

With little else to do Kakashi runs. All use of justus and the likes are forbidden which render practicing any actual combat skills impossible, but at least he can keep in shape. Without using chakra to boost him he runs until his legs are stiff and shaky. He knows he's fit by a civilian's standard but compared to what he's used to it still surprises him how slow he runs, and for how short distances. Stopping himself from finding footholds by channeling chakra takes most of his focus and keeps his mind comfortably occupied. After so many years as a shinobi it's second nature to him to _not_ sink down in the water that hides under the grass in some places. As he's still learning to properly read the ground up on the hillside it takes a lot of willpower to allow his feet to get wet.

With the taste of blood on his tongue and his pulse beating throughout his head Kakashi lets gravity bring him down on some random spot of decently dry and flat grass that is somewhat protected from the ever-present wind. He lies there, struggling to get his breath back, watching the sky. For that short time every day he feels fully alive, and that's all the proof he needs that this is not a genjutsu. The chill in the air usually registers at the same time as the blankness trickles back into his head. He gets up then and makes his way back to the farm.

The day after Hermione showed up is the first time Kakashi deliberately chooses a specific turf for his rest. It's the same one where she joined him, and maybe it's an invitation for her to come back. Kakashi is not convinced he wants her to, yet here his is.

Hermione, with her straightforward, continuous stream of small-talk makes Kakashi wary. He's not used to such bluntness in any issues that can be considered personal, or even worse; emotional. Konoha shinobi, Kakashi very much included, wouldn't dream of admitting to such things as loneliness or feeling lost. Kakashi is convinced they all carry darkness inside of them from time to time, but they deal with it as shinobi should: Quietly and on their own.

"Góðan daginn" Hermione says as she reaches Kakashi. He can feel his hair moving as he nods along with his "yo!"

Folding with her hands on her knees Hermione huffs out a breath and then pushes herself up. "I can't believe you actually go _running_ here." A hand comes up to remove a strand of wildly curly hair that has fallen across her face. "It's steep, and uneven, and I'm ridiculously winded from just walking the closest route."

"Hm," Kakashi says, "it's a good challenge I think. Keeps me in shape." Hermione sits down uninvited this time, legs stretched out in front of her in a very civilian manner.

"Yeah?" Hermione questions. "You do trail running or something similarly crazy?"

The open curiosity is strange, even if Kakashi should be prepared this time. Pictures of training and jutsus, missions and war, teammates and death, flash before Kakashi's eyes and for a moment he considers lying. Saying yes would be _simple_. In the end he settles for something closer to the truth and in line with the cover Tsunade gave him. He is not fond of outright lies and his cover is probably all over the grape wine as it is. Hermione will hear about it soon enough.

"I'm a soldier." He allows. It's a redacted truth, but as close as he can come without spilling secrets that he has swore to keep. He could maybe have used the word mercenary because most of his life he's been just that if in a slightly more formal setting. He has, however, been told that translation that can get adverse reactions from people. Apparently making a living the way shinobi do isn't uncomplicated in large parts of the world.

"And now you're here feeding sheep?" Hermione asks, looking intrigued. Since it's not a question that needs an answer Kakashi shrugs and turns to look out over the valley. The broken cloud cover allows for splashes of sunlight to travel across the ground at moderate speed. He's getting used to the absence of threes and greenery, and the sky that goes on forever. It's easy to feel insignificant here.

Kakashi thinks of pulling out his ever-present book to dissuade any further questioning but decides against it. He's not convinced it'll work on Hermione anyway.

"Now I'm even more curious about how you ended up here." Hermione could have easily phrased it as a question, but she doesn't. Kakashi is grateful, and maybe that's why he chooses to answer.

"My boss told me it was a mission." He says, folding his eyes into a smile that never reaches his lips. It doesn't hurt as much anymore, but he's not happy about it either. "Said it was S-rank, a personal favor where she needed someone she could trust." He doesn't say out loud that it clearly was a lie. Hermione will figure that out or she won't. He definitely doesn't tell her about the letter Tsunade sent him, telling him as much.

Hermione stays silent, and it drags words out of Kakashi he didn't plan to share. "She apparently thought I needed a break." It's what she wrote after all, and a plain and simple fact like that can stand being shared. He doesn't mention the feeling of being exiled, nor the absolute certainty that she'd done it to keep him from becoming Hokage now that he's lost his sharingan. Not that he thinks he _should_ be Hokage, but it would have been nice to have her say it out loud or not at all. Tsunade is not known for circumventing issues like this.

"Did you?" Hermione asks when it's clear Kakashi's not adding anything else. "Need a break I mean," she clarifies when he fails to answer. As if he hadn't understood what she meant. Kakashi thinks back on the time immediately after the war. How he'd slept when he came to Heimstaðir. How much he still sleeps.

"Maa Hermione, who knows?" Kakashi keeps his voice airy and offers her a beaming smile, confident she won't be able to tell if it's real or not behind his mask. After all, there's a lot of wiggle room between not lying and telling the truth. Bullshit answers like this have served him well all through his life.

Fact is: Kakashi knows there's a chance the letter has a point. Continuous strain has ruled his life ever since Pein attacked Konoha (ever since he died) leaving only stolen moments to recover. Even after the Fourth World War ended there had been no real rest for the survivors. They had friends to bury, injured to care for, new alliances to cultivate, societies to repair, and in Konoha's case; a village to rebuild. Kakashi, given his role in the war, had been kept incredibly busy. They were all tired, but he just can't see why he would need a break more than anyone else?

"Yesterday evening I missed a valve in the milking room." Hermione offers, making it clear she won't push the previous subject any further. "Or maybe not _missed_. More like I forgot that the milk truck had been around and that they leave it open. So instead of opening the valve to the milk tank I closed it."

When she fades out for a second Kakashi turns to look at her. She is smiling slightly and seems to take his attention as a sign to tell him more. "About a quarter of the cows into milking I thought I felt something a little bit off with the machines. It was honestly probably make-believe but luckily I checked the milk room."

Hermione turns towards Kakashi, halfway to a laugh, and he's sure she's withholding the end to make him ask for it. He raises an eyebrow to call her bluff but still allows himself to prod the conversation further. "And?"

"A relief valve was spraying milk everywhere. The floor was like a white lake because it didn't go down the drain fast enough." The laughter infects Kakashi, and while he remains silent he can feel it in his body. It's a lightness after the weight of their previous subject.

"Kristín choose that moment to show up and save me. Laughing while she did it because I apparently did quite a good deer-in-headlight-look." The stretched-out legs are drawn in and Hermione places her elbows on her knees. Kakashi wonders if it's the chill or a sudden sense of vulnerability that makes her do it.

"At least she wasn't angry." Hermione admits, and Kakashi leans toward the latter of the reasons. Fear of not being good enough is something he can relate to. "Apparently everyone does it at some point. She congratulated me on being a full-fledged farmer and asked me to try not to do it again." The smile that wavered for a second is back with full strength.

It is unsettling how Hermione shares her mistakes so easily, even allowing some of her insecurities around them to shine through. Shinobi doesn't generally laugh at their own mistakes, and while it's refreshing that she does Kakashi has no idea how he should respond. Are you supposed to laugh when someone makes a joke at their own expense? Or do you tell them it was a mistake, no harm done? Civilians are confusing.

They trade a few mishaps from the country life. Or maybe trade is a misleading word, but at least Kakashi tells Hermione of the time the sheep got out into the yard and he had to exit the house through a window to get them back without scaring them out into the road. Hermione tells him about how one cow shat on her shoulder, of getting swatted over the head by endless tails, of the hardship of keeping a wheelbarrow of pellets on even keel past 30 hungry cows, and how terrifying bulls can be when they get loose.

"I'm so happy the light's returning." Hermione eventually says, the previous subject currently emptied.

"It has it's upsides." Kakashi agrees. When he came to Heimstaðir it was the end of February and they had only four hours of sunshine a day, given that the sun came out at all. It's quickly getting better. "Although we're losing the perfect reason to go to bed early and get up late." The real smile comes easy after so many laughs.

"Point well made." Hermione smiles back at him. "But maybe that would have been a better thing in a city. Out here the world goes so small when it's dark outside. Especially this time of the year when everything is grey." Kakashi hums noncommittally at that.

"I think it was easier when there was snow," Hermione continues when she realizes Kakashi won't add anything. There hasn't been all that much snow since he arrived. "In a way it makes everything complicated, but it also makes the world clean and bright. This part between winter and spring is sad, I wish we could just skip it."

They're at the point where the chill of the damp and the wind has worked its way to their bones, and they break up to get back the prepare for their afternoon chores.

Jumping between the unstable tufts of grass in the boggy part of his way back Kakashi realizes Hermione's company isn't as bad as he thought. Being part of a conversation forces him to wake up and be present. He might even have had a good time talking to her today, enough so that he doesn't mourn the loss of his sky-watching time very much.

.oOo.

Hermione shouldn't have said it. When Kakashi wakes the next morning it is to a howling wind and raging snow. He steps out of the front door in his borrowed coveralls and rubber boots. Feels the wind trying to rip him to shreds and the snow like needles against the bare part of his face. The snow is piled too high against the human sized stable door to get it opened, but if he climbs into the pen he can use the sheep's door. Crossing the courtyard Kakashi feels as if the whipping air fights against his lungs for every breath, and somehow that makes his chest feel less hollow. He finds himself smiling behind his mask as he ducks into the stables.

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AN: Please let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

The chill and snow decide to stay. The second night all the water hoses connected to the troughs freeze and Kakashi's work time doubles as he must knock the ice away from the water surfaces before bringing water from the one functioning tap by the wall. Without channeling chakra the buckets are heavy and the wooden ramp that leads down to the lower stables gets impossibly slippery in his rubber boots. The gate at the end takes two hands to maneuver and balancing the buckets against his legs on the ramp lead to Kakashi spilling ice cold water into his boots at least once a day.

Kakashi doesn't mind. In fact, the harder work in the stables make him feel more useful and alive. The smell of sheep is a heavy mix of wool and manure, warm bodies and hay. It's not unpleasant, even if he's forced to switch all clothing, including his mask, when going inside to avoid smelling it all day. He usually realizes it is time to wash his workwear when the scent of sheep has settled on his skin in the evenings.

Running _in_ the snow turns out to be impossible, as opposed to running _on_ it the way Kakashi's been doing on his earlier journeys in snowy areas. Not only does the knee-deep powder offer resistance, it also evens out the holes in the ground and makes them invisible. Devoid of his usual pastime Kakashi takes the time to fix little things in the stables, straightens fences and gates, makes sure hinges are oiled, and that the doorsteps and driveway are free of snow.

The fourth day of winter dawns sunny and with strong winds whipping up mist in the air above the snow banks' crests. "Window-weather," Þorir calls it, as he's heading out to work. "Nice to look at but not so nice when you're in it."

But it _is_ nice to be in it. It's cold and unfriendly, yes, but also invigorating. Something with the harshness of the nature in the last days makes Kakashi feel both small and completely irrelevant. In a weird way that's liberating.

Kakashi follows the ploughed road and the sunshine is multiplied in all the white to blinding levels. Wisps of snow blows across the ground before him and creates beautiful shadow effects. Just a few minutes feels like it negates all the hours of darkness he's had since he came here and wakes him up more fully than he's been in a long time. Walking back, he hears a loud whistle and looks up to see Hermione peeking out of her front door.

"Oi! Kakashi!" She calls and waves for him to come over. As he turns up the driveway Kakashi thinks he might have missed their meetings these last few days. He's used to having people around, and while Sunna and Þorir are home in the evenings he doesn't feel comfortable around them. They should be allowed some space in their own home.

.oOo.

"Your mask is white with frost." Hermione greets Kakashi. "Doesn't the dampness irritate your skin?" The second it slips out of her mouth she regrets it. Know-it-all-Granger must go. She shouldn't question things so easily, people might take offense.

"You called me over only to ask me that?" Kakashi's tone is dry, but at least neither angry nor obviously dismissive.

Hermione slumps slightly against the door she's holding open. It's freezing outside. "I'm sorry." She says, and she means it. "Would you like some tea?"

As per his habit Kakashi never really answers the question, but he steps inside none the less. He doesn't remove his mask with the rest of his outer clothes, which is a little strange. Hermione chats easily about the weather and the beauty of the blowing snow but her mind isn't in it. She mostly regrets ever acting on the impulse to wave Kakashi over. Why would he want to hang out with her, and especially on a day like this?

After over a decade of periods Hermione knows she's currently PMSing and is as such unusually incapable of keeping both her personality and her feelings in check. Given that she's learnt that no one likes all of her, it would have been a good idea _not_ to invite Kakashi today of all days. She hears herself talking too much, as always, and can't for the life of her understand why Kakashi choose to come inside when he's never getting a word in. She's not sure if the thought makes her want to cry because she's angry with herself or if she's angry because she wants to cry. It's also unclear which of the two make her less ridiculous. Probably neither.

"I talk too much." Hermione says out loud. "Just tell me to shut up when you get tired of it."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," Kakashi answers blandly. Hermione wants to die. _How_ is she supposed to interpret that?

She fills two strainers with leaves and pour water into the cups, calming herself as well as she can. "I only had one blend, I hope this is okay?" Turning around Hermione finds Kakashi watching her. The scar over his left eye stands out clearly in the cold winter light. It's amazing his eye seems to be working at all with the scar tissue traversing his eyelid. So much of his face is covered that it's hard to tell; but she thinks he looks contemplative. That can't be good.

"Maa, I'll live." Kakashi's eyes fold to a smile. Putting down one of the cups in front of him Hermione wonders if he'll remove his mask to drink it. She's never seen his face but hasn't thought for one second the mask might be something other than a protection against the cold outside. Not until the last couple of minutes. Now it's impossible not to think about.

The kitchen table is right by the window, and after seating herself on one of the light wooden chairs Hermione turns her attention to the view outside. It feels safest not to say anything for a little while. Kakashi pulls out a dogeared, battered book from his pocket and flips it open with a practiced ease. From the corner of her eye Hermione can see the cup being raised behind the book. It answers one question but brings up many more. She swears to herself she won't ask them, especially not now.

Half a teacup pass, quiet apart from Kakashi turning a page every now and then. "What are you reading?" Hermione asks when she feels she's done with both view and silence. She turns to look at the front of the book and can feel her eyebrows rising.

"Make-out Paradise." Kakashi answers offhandedly and without moving his eyes from the page.

"Is that what I think it is?" Hermione can hear her voice being a tiny bit shrill, but not embarrassingly so.

"Depends on what you think it is." Kakashi answers indifferently, eyes still on the book.

Hermione gapes like a fish out of water. It's slightly frustrating how easy it is for Kakashi to fluster her, and as such she decides it's not her who will back out of this conversation.

"Basically a Harlequin novel?" She sips on her tea to look unaffected but has a feeling she's not pulling it off. Not that Kakashi is so much as glancing at her.

"Don't know what that is." Kakashi flips a page.

"Eh?" Hermione feels very eloquent. "Like, porn with a plot? A very cliché, poorly written plot?" She's never actually read one, so she's going on what she's heard. Not that she knows anyone who's ever admitted to reading a Harlequin novel.

"I wouldn't say it's poorly written." Judging from his tone Kakashi might as well be talking about the weather. "Nor would I call it porn."

"Wow. You always read them in public?" The tea is still warm against her lips, it's also running out way to fast.

Kakashi shrugs at the question. "Why not?" He says.

"Because people will talk?" It's odd enough to see girls reading sentimental novels. A Japanese army guy? That definitely goes against some of Hermione's preconceptions.

"I've never cared much what people talk about." Another page is flipped and the speed Kakashi's reading at even while in the middle of a conversation says he's most likely very familiar with the words.

There's something hidden underneath Kakashi's last flippant comment, Hermione can sense it. She cannot put proper words to it, but she feels it is important. For the moment though it must be stowed away in her for-later-consideration-file. Along with the mask and the scar across his face and anything else that shouldn't be brought up right now.

"So, who's the author? Male or female?" For the first time since taking out the book Kakashi momentarily meets her eyes.

"Jiraya wrote them. He was..." Kakashi obviously searches for the right word. "A colleague." He finishes, and Hermione wonders what the alternatives were.

"Does that make you a writer or him a soldier?" It's a tangent but Hermione allows her curiosity to win.

"Jiraya was one of the sannin. He was a legendary warrior, and not only because of his interest in strong liquor and beautiful women."

"Okay." Hermione downs her remaining tea and goes back to her intended question. "Would it pass the Bechdel test? Because I've given up on reading, or watching, anything with a plot coming even close to romance. Or anything blockbuster, or in a historical setting, or..." She breaks herself off before she goes on forever. "Sorry," she says instead, "I asked a question, I should wait for the answer."

"I have never heard of the Bechdel test." Kakashi says, indifferently. "Therefore, I have no idea if it passes." For one long second Hermione feels like slapping him. She reigns herself in.

"It's a simple test for how women are portrayed." Hermione can't believe Kakashi's never heard of it. Then again, he's from halfway across the earth and hardly the academic type. "You take a movie or book or whatever and you check; is there any scene where two women speak with each other about anything that's not a man."

"Hm." Kakashi haven't lifted his eyes from the book yet, but at least he sounds contemplative.

"I'm just so incredibly tired of every story ever told where the women are women before they are human. Or the men for that matter. I mean, sometimes it feels like every female character is completely flat apart from her boobs. They are just some side characters there to enhance the men." Kakashi is finally looking at her and Hermione's frustration keep her going. "Is it so much to ask for a bit of agency and not just girls floating around waiting for guys to make things happen? If it's not out of a love interest in a boy of course, then they _might_ act on their own accord. Couldn't it be okay for girls to take up some space and make themselves heard?

"Women are just painted as either meek or raving mad with feelings and are never making any sense. If they are ever given the room to speak up they do it as a _woman_, as a role model shit character that's perfect in that way instead. Where's the girls who use the bathroom? Who has some grit? Who laughs and cries like a real human being? Instead we get pretty criers whose makeup doesn't get ruined, even by an apocalypse."

Kakashi is watching her as Hermione shuts up, realizing she might have gotten slightly out of hand. Didn't she tell herself it was a bad idea to invite Kakashi today? "I'm sorry." She feels like she's repeating herself. "And I know there are similar problems for guys so no offense, it's just." With no idea where she was going Hermione lets the unfinished sentence hang in the air between them. She looks out on the wind and the snow, pretending she can't feel Kakashi's eyes on the side of her face.

"For someone so invested in women speaking up..." Kakashi says slowly and Hermione get a squirming feeling in her stomach. "...you sure apologize a lot."

Hermione _almost_ says sorry again but manages to hold her tongue. She hates this. Hates how she's been taught that she's too loud, too bossy, too much, and the fact that she can't shake it off. It feels like she's falling into a hole in herself and hates even more how tears are gathering in her eyes. She looks up at the ceiling to keep them from spilling over. She's not even sad, which makes it exponentially more annoying.

After a few calming breaths she dares to look at Kakashi without the fear of crying hanging over her. "Yeah, well, let's just say that in the long run not even I was impervious to people telling me I'm an egoistical know-it-all." She can taste the bitterness in the back of her mouth, sharp and cutting.

Kakashi's eyebrows twitch upward in something that could be surprise, but he turns his focus out the window before Hermione can get a proper chance to read hum.

"I believe it's getting late, I better head back home." Kakashi stands up. "Thank you for the tea."

"Eh… I..." Kakashi is basically out the door before Hermione can figure out what she's trying to say. "Bye then." She forces out a smile and Kakashi is gone.

The silence after the closing door is pressing and Hermione lets herself slide down to sit on the hallway floor. It's melodramatic, she knows, but she feels melodramatic and this whole afternoon has been a mistake. She's angry at herself for crying now, and for not knowing better than this. Of course Kakashi ran away, she's rude and generally unlikeable and topped it off with stereotypical girlish almost-crying. If Hermione could change just one thing about herself in this moment, she'd be born a boy and not have to deal with any of this crap. As it is, she's just destroyed her only potential friendship in this place, _and_ made a fool of herself.

Hermione wipes the snot running from her nose on her sleeve because the shirt needs a wash anyway. She figures she could really use a hug right now, wants one so bad it hurts, but there's no one around to provide one. At least she's got milking in about half an hour, so she'll need to pull herself out of her pity party and get it together. Fake it 'til you make it and all that.

That evening Hermione calls her mother. "Oh honey," she says, "but you know; the PMS will be over soon, and you'll feel better. You didn't do anything you can't make right if he comes your way again. Just try to reign yourself in." She goes to bed afterwards with a knot in her stomach that she hopes is the beginning of cramps. It's much easier to deal when it switches to whole lower abdomen being what hurts. Two days of hormonal chaos, two days of constant pain, and then a respite of 24 days before it starts again. The bleeding itself has never been the reason she wishes she was born a boy, even if that part sucks too.

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AN: I had so much fun writing this! I don't think I've ever read a character with PMS, yet this is me for a few days every month and I know I'm not alone. Please let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

The speed with which the weather changes hasn't ceased to amaze Hermione. Three days after Kakashi's visit she's stopped taking back-to-back painkillers, is bleeding like a stuck pig, and outside the winter has given way to endless rain. She has hubris, does every time she gets her period, and it's the perfect occasion to start projects she'll regret once the ovulation sets in and she starts the downward slide into PMS.

Like her mother said; she only needs to catch Kakashi again, apologize, and be a better version of herself from now on. The problem is he hasn't been seen for two days. The rain has yet to melt the snow on the mountainside enough for running, and if he's walking along the road he either does it in the opposite direction from Hermione's house or passes by when she's not watching.

The idea of walking over to Heimstaðir has popped up in Hermione's head once or twice, but she holds herself back. Kakashi doesn't have his own house, and someone else might be home. It could get awkward. Instead she writes, knits, bakes a cake for afternoon tea to share with Kristín and Ingo, and borrows the car and goes into town for an evening. She feels good, with or without Kakashi for a friend, and it's ridiculous how much she worried what he thought of her. Since when does she need others to define her?

It's a sad thing this stage will mellow out in a few days.

In the end it turns out to be a week since their last meeting when Hermione finally joins Kakashi up on the hillside again. She's seen him before, but it's been raining on and off to the extent she hasn't felt like struggling up here only to be drenched and have to head back home.

"Long time no seen," Hermione greets him, as she sits down on the pad she brought. The ground is wet, and the rain is not gone so much as shrunken and hanging in the air. Kakashi's back against the grass must be freezing and soaked, but it doesn't show.

"It's only been a week," Kakashi points out. He glances at her for a moment before looking back up at the sky.

"Well," Hermione agrees, "while that's true I met you three times the week before that, so." She takes in the sky he watches. It's massive, stretching all the way down to the ground without any trees to obscure the horizon.

"Look, I'm sorry about last time," Hermione starts. She's got a whole speech planned out and might as well get to it. "I wasn't myself, and I wasn't very reasonable, or nice come to think about it, and I'm sorry about that." What she hears herself say isn't as eloquent as what she had drafted, but at least it gets the point across. "If you want me to buzz off I will, I just wanted you to know that."

"Buzz off?" Kakashi has turned towards her, and she's watching his eyebrow rise. Eye contact more than a second at a time is _weird_.

"Oh for… I'm nervous, okay? If you want me to _leave you alone_, I will. Better?" Hermione can't help making an exasperated face. The guy can be seriously annoying with the way he sidesteps most of her questions.

"Not really," Kakashi says.

"So what?" Being irritated can't be unreasonable under these circumstances. If Kakashi is going to tell her to get lost there are less cruel, drawn-out ways of doing so.

Kakashi sits up to look at her. The stupid mask makes it impossible for her to read anything off his face. "What makes you think I couldn't avoid you if I wanted to?" His tone holds none of the confrontation expected but a trace of curiosity. His head is tilted slightly to the side. "You are not physically restraining me."

The question makes Hermione pause and she search for an answer. "Well," she finally says. "I'm pushy." It feels strange to admit it out loud like this, not as part of a joke about how difficult she is to deal with, but as a stinging truth. "People are generally raised polite and unwilling to hurt or upset others," Hermione continues. "Therefore, even if I probably couldn't detain you if I tried, which I won't, you might feel obligated to be nice to me."

"You think too highly of people." Hermione can only say what's not present in Kakashi's voice as he speaks. Whatever the nameless thing that _is_ there is, it makes her feel like she's been told she's got the less lethal of two possible types of cancer.

The conversation moves on. Hermione can hear herself participating, but she's relying solely on years of experience in running her mouth. Food seems to be the topic, and how the one served here differ from what they're used to. Kakashi misses miso soup and something called saury. Hermione tells him of the chocolates she buys in a store just off Diagon, but not of the way the painted flowers on them grow.

In the privacy of her mind Hermione is still thinking about Kakashi's answer to her apology. It could be his round-about noncommittal way of telling her it's okay, maybe even that _she's_ okay. But, she's not so sure. More likely, he meant he'll continue doing what he did last time; walk away when she gets obnoxious. She will reign herself in from now on, be the best version of herself and make sure not to give him reason to. That shouldn't be hard, should it? And she should be grateful either way, right?

.oOo.

Kakashi hangs his rain-soaked clothes to dry on his desk chair, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to the bathroom to shower. No one's home. No one's ever home at this time of day, but he still knows he's getting complacent in this habit. One day he'll step out of the bathroom and meet Sunna or Þorir's surprised face and it will get as awkward as his first dinner here. Possibly worse.

As a shinobi, Kakashi sees his body mostly as a tool. Quite often a weapon. It is there to channel chakra, give and take hits, get him from one place to another, and any number of things that needs doing. Nobody can accuse shinobi of not caring how they look, because of course they do, but that's not the reason to keep fit. Body, mind, and chakra – it's the three things all shinobi relay on, no blades or other weapons can help you if one of the three fail. Kakashi is confident in his abilities as a ninja, and as such he's confident in his body. For him it's always been as easy as that. Exposing one's torso might be inappropriate in most situations, but it's not the end of the world.

His face? Another matter completely.

Tsunade once told him it was backwards; the fact that he had no problems with the healers taking his clothes, but that he'd fight every conscious second to get to keep his mask. These days it has sort of played itself out, and he usually comes to with his face covered up. Konoha knows him, has accepted his mask the way they accept the myriad of idiosyncrasies that shinobi cultivates like regular folks grow their gardens.

In the privacy of his own apartment Kakashi takes it off, but here he does it only when he crawls into bed for the night, or when he showers. Þorir and Sunna gave him the strangest looks that first meal, when he took out his book to eat behind, but they didn't ask. No one does.

Every day after his work-out he walks from his room to the bathroom, feeling exposed, but it's a habit now and he knows he won't stop. He wouldn't say it scares him, but the minute spike of adrenaline it creates sings in his veins after so many weeks of inactiveness. The day he checks for and finds life-signs in the house when he exits the shower he'll figure something out, use the hand towel or something, but it's not today. Until then his mask can get aired for this short time to dry out the sweat from training.

Þorir told him, that first afternoon on Heimstaðir, that the hot water here is basically free since it's geothermal. Long showers are allowed. It's a small thing, but one he's grateful for. With his own body for weight, he's spent his customary half hour after running on keeping the rest of his body in shape. Shoulders and arms were scheduled for today, and the steaming sulfur-smelling water pounding down lessens some of the ache in them.

Showers are also Kakashi's best place to think. Better than baths even, because if he leans his head a little bit forward the constant warm patter against his neck and shoulder blades ground him like nothing else.

Dealing with Hermione is hard. Scratch that. Dealing with Hermione is impossible. Kakashi has no idea how he's supposed to do this right. He has no idea what he did wrong in her kitchen that put tears in her eyes and defiance in her voice, nor does he know how to handle people when they are like that. Giving her her privacy had felt like the right thing at the moment, because weaknesses like that are meant to be hidden, but he got the feeling today it had been incorrect.

The apology Hermione made as they met up made little sense to Kakashi, and he tried to understand it, tried to answer it, but he has a feeling he got that one wrong too. If Hermione's an open book, and Kakashi's not so sure about that anymore, she's written in a language he can't read. She interests him the way a cipher or a good riddle would. Civilians have always been an enigma to Kakashi, with their immunity to growing up and their squeamishness for things like blood or a little violence. Not that Hermione reminds Kakashi much of Konoha's civilians, but she sure isn't shinobi.

Naruto had been different from most shinobi, too, back when Kakashi first met him. Boisterous and emotional and so very young and naïve in his faith in people. At seventeen Naruto was still most of those things, and in it lay a strength Kakashi would never have imagined back when he got stuck with team 7. The boy had talked the kyūbi around, had brought Obito back from his insanity, and was the only one Kakashi knew who really got through to Sasuke.

Kakashi sighs. He'd made a staggering number of mistakes with team 7, not only with Naruto. He just can't deal with people's emotional messes dribbling all around them. Whether they are teenage shinobi in training or strange neighboring girls matter little in the end. It's him who's too different.

* * *

AN: The next one will be longer, I promise. Meanwhile, I'd be happy to hear your feelings so far!


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thank you for your interest in this, it's great to know people are out there reading! As for this chapter we have some messed up timelines, technology-wise. Let's just pretend Harry Potter happened later than it did, placing this story in 2019. Also, obviously, Kakashi's magically learnt English.

I'm not sure I'm happy with how this chapter turned out. Some parts should probably be re-written altogether, but I told myself not to take this story too seriously, so I won't. If there are passages that are too weird or impossible to understand, please let me know and I'll fix those.

* * *

Hermione types "Konoha" into Google maps and gets four European restaurants. Changing to "Konoha Japan" gives her what looks like a neighborhood on Kyushu. Doing the original search again with the zoom set to Japan she gets a shrine, a river, and a bunch of different businesses. None of it feels like what she's looking for.

"An island outside of Japan," Kakashi had said the first time they met, and then, today, he'd passingly mentioned the name of his hometown: Konoha. Hence the search.

It's not like Hermione is stalking him. Much. It's just, he doesn't have a Facebook profile (and who doesn't have Facebook? _Luna Lovegood_ is on Facebook for god's sake), and Hermione is bored. Really bored, and there's too little time left before milking to do anything reasonable. This is why they invented the internet anyway, isn't it?

Maybe she misheard, or misspelled. The name wouldn't originally be in the Roman alphabet, making it hard to know. In this it doesn't help that her understanding of the Japanese writing system has widened, with her carefully extracting information on it from Kakashi. The man might be good at skirting outright questions, but he can be made to talk if she's careful and the subject isn't personal.

They've met up a several times by now, mostly up on the mountainside in the moments when sunshine has painted the world golden instead of grey. It's been nice, having someone to talk to that's her age and in a similar position. The conversations have been kept superficial, and Hermione's honestly proud of how well she's avoided letting her personality go haywire and suffocate everyone in sight. It's not been an easy balance to keep.

There was one instant, when she found out Kakashi _doesn't have a driver's license_, where she might have gone slightly overboard in her surprise. If it's one thing she cannot imagine it's being stuck in rural Iceland without even the ability to borrow a car to get to town. Soldiers should be able to drive, right? Kakashi had merely lifted a single eyebrow at the question and flatly told her that he didn't _need_ to drive. She's still unsure if there had been a hint of a joke in the dry tone, or if she'd begun to ascribe him a sense of humor for her own sanity's sake.

Of course, it ended up with Hermione offering to bring Kakashi into town when she goes and saying that he should join her to the local swimming pool. It's her own fault that he folded, too, since she pestered him about it for over a minute.

Having someone to talk to while lounging in the hot pot does sound pleasant, Hermione thinks as she turns the computer off and changes into her workwear. She usually gets bored and goes home earlier than she'd like because her books don't deserve water wrinkling their pages. Only, when Kristín heard she gave Hermione the smile she always gets when "the neighbor boy" comes up. The one that make Hermione's insides clench painfully. What Kristín is implying will never happen, but Hermione refuses to put herself in a situation where she'll have to explain why it won't. There's too much inside of her still achingly raw and impossible to talk about.

Milking is, at least, a good distraction from painful thoughts. Hermione learnt early on that if she's agitated or worried, the cows will get agitated or worried. After almost three months that fact has sunken into her body to the point where she automatically calms down when she enters the barn. The sting of the hot water in the washing bucket, the rhythmic sounds of the milking machine and the musty smell of cows are grounding. Add to that the divided attention needed to avoid getting impatiently side-kicked while cleaning and stripping the cows, and Hermione's mind is comfortably settled as she works. If being a farmer came with nine-to-five days, free weekends, and paid vacation time Hermione wouldn't hesitate to change careers for good.

Hermione picks Kakashi up once milking is done. She drives the worn, dirty farm-car that's hers whenever she wants it, and she knows it smells of cow because the tang of them latches onto everything.

"So, did you get the mandatory speech about Icelandic pools?" Hermione asks as she pulls out of Heimstaðir's driveway. The cars headlights create a yellow-grey cone on the road ahead of them and make the darkness in the ditches inky and thick.

"You mean the strict lecture on showering?" Kakashi sound vaguely amused. "I got that. I think they expected me to be react differently to the fact that the changing rooms have communal showers."

"Yeah?" Hermione prods. "You do that in Japan too?"

"I'm not from Japan, but yes, we do that too. Our public baths are divided between men and women, proper washing is done before going in the pool, and no swimsuits are allowed." A quick glance shows Kakashi looking disinterestedly out the windscreen.

"You're not from Japan?" Hermione can hear the surprise in her own voice. "But Japanese is your first language, right? I mean, I know you said you're from an island outside Japan, and I guess I just assumed," she trails off before she says something really stupid.

"No," Kakashi says. "Then yes, then yes again, but we are not a part of the Japanese nation. In fact, there are several sovereign countries spread out over a group of islands, including the one I come from."

"Wow," Hermione feels embarrassed. "Shows what I know." She can't help but wonder how many other of Kakashi's vague answers hold far more complicated truths than she's thought.

"Maa Hermione, I doubt the extent of your knowledge is in any way defined by this oversight." Hermione can hear Kakashi's smile and it must mean he knows what humor is, even if he uses it to change the subject.

The conversation derails from there, with Hermione suggesting that the oversight might be Kakashi's and she's been right all along. It turns into the kind of playful banter Hermione realizes she has missed desperately. Despite everything that happened back home, and the absolute certainty that she made the right choice when she left, she sometimes yearns for it the way it was before. How could she not?

Hermione gets out to the bathing area before Kakashi and steps down in the hotpot that's kept a comfortable 38 degrees Celsius. In the warmer of the pools two old men are chatting away in Icelandic, but apart from the three of them the area is vacant this time of the evening. She leans her head back, allowing her body to float freely the empty pool for a moment, and looks up at the starless sky. It feels like it could start snowing.

The mask is firmly in place when Kakashi steps out of the changing room only minutes later. Hermione's been thinking about whether he would take it off, how he'd look, and if it'd be weird, but apparently he's gotten away with keeping it on. In an unusual curiosity-defying way it's a relief.

What is not a relief is that with the distance between them Hermione can't see Kakashi's mask and _not_ see where it ends against his collarbones. It's also impossible to see his clavicles and not see the rest of the upper body, since that's how perspective works. Hermione wants to sink into the tepid embrace of the water and suffocate. A solution like that would also save her the trouble of figuring out where it's least awkward to rest her eyes until Kakashi is close enough that his body is taken out of the equation.

It's unclear if it's the muscles toned from actual use or the way Kakashi owns his movements. It could be the combination. Fact is, Hermione is not above admitting he's aesthetically pleasing. Problem is, he must be aware of it too, and if he knows that she knows then she's damned either way, isn't she? If she looks at him it can be taken as outright interest, if she doesn't it can be taken as poorly hidden interest, and if this gets out Kristín will never let it go. A significant other is the last thing Hermione wants, but even if she was on the lookout it wouldn't be for a closed-off, emotionally pre-pubescent, Harlequin-reading hipster. No matter how great his body might be.

For a desperate moment Hermione thinks about casually mentioning she's a lesbian. The problem with that is she _isn't_, even if she's entertained the idea once or twice when she's been especially tired of men.

The situation resolves itself temporarily when Kakashi slips into the pool next to her with catlike grace and the water surface distorts everything beneath it. "It feels like we might get snow," Hermione says, and she's talking about the weather. Great.

Kakashi only hums in answer. "I read there's an Icelandic saying;" Hermione continues when heavy silence starts settling around them, "if you don't like the weather just wait fifteen minutes."

"I believe that might be an exaggeration," Kakashi says. "It's almost half an hour since you picked me up, and the weather's the same." Hermione smiles and lets a lone, silent chuckle out through her nose. Kakashi's humor might be dryer than the plants in Harry's first flat, but it's there alright. She wonders if she's become attuned to it now, or if Kakashi uses it more frequently than he did.

They flow between the topics easily enough for a while, none of them creating more ripples in Hermione's mind than the wind can manage on the larger of the swimming pools. It's the kind of conversation that keeps the social machinery working but makes her soul and mind shrivel up and die. It's procrastination with a side dish of tricking yourself you've got a connection with someone. Being tolerable to be around requires sacrifices, but even as she participates in the charade she wonders if it's worth it.

"Where are you from then?" Hermione doesn't have a bridge to this subject from the last one, she dives right in. It's been rolling around in her head all afternoon as it is, with her failure to find Konoha on the map. Kakashi might have a mastery in ducking questions, but Hermione has a pathological need to understand things, and there's no understanding without answers.

Kakashi looks at her for a moment. "Why do you want to know?" The tone is regulated but not an immediate dismissal. "It's not like the names will mean anything to you." Hermione shrugs.

"Well," she says, "for one; I'm a curious person. Why wouldn't I want to know? You know where I'm from." The wording can be interpreted as passive aggressive Hermione hears, but she tries to show they're not with a smile and a shrugging motion.

"And for two?" Hermione has no clue what Kakashi is asking. "You said: For one, you're curious," he clarifies. "But that's hardly a reason." She can recognize him derailing this line of questioning as well but doesn't fight it. At least this can be classified as talking about something real.

Looking out over the steaming pools Hermione tries to grasp the words needed. She knows what her second reason is, of course, but how does she explain it without being a nosy control freak dictating what's important? Seconds go by, and she have to say something soon. Either way Kakashi's stuck with her for a ride home, which should give her opportunity to apologize if this goes horribly.

"It's just," Hermione starts, the words moving like syrup, "we've been hanging out for a while, and that's nice and all. I like having someone to talk to. Only, I also like to get to know people, and be able to talk about real things, eventually. I mean, I sort of see you as my, friend," a sudden fear spikes as Hermione wonders if Kakashi will protest the word. He doesn't, and she continues smoothly; "but I don't really know _anything_ about you. Except your name is Hatake Kakashi - probably in that order because you wanted to say it like that when we first met -, you speak Japanese but aren't from Japan, your hometown _might_ be called Konoha, you're in the army, and your boss sent you here."

Falling quiet for a moment Hermione tries to go over what she said. She glances at Kakashi, wishing he'd respond. He doesn't. "I'm sorry," she admits when the silence begins to wrap around her ribcage like anxiety. "I know I'm demanding and intrusive. I try not to be, I promise, but sometimes it's impossible. Feel free to pretend I didn't say any of that." While her voice remains relatively normal, Hermione feels like she is shrinking. A bikini is crap as armor and the water doesn't hide how she pulls one of her legs up and wraps her arms around it. Kakashi still hasn't spoken. The old men disappear towards the changing rooms.

The hint couldn't be clearer if it slapped Hermione across the face. She feels mostly empty from it. It was only ever a matter of time, and this way it won't hurt as much as it did with Ron and Harry.

"I'll go shower. See you at the car." Hermine looks at Kakashi as she stands and takes the two strides to the stairs. He is sitting unnaturally still, eyes wide open and tracking her movements. This is what deprecation looks like then. Good to know. Or something.

In the empty changing room Hermione picks up the pieces and puts herself back together. It's a familiar puzzle by now. Being honest, Hermione knows the distraction provided from their trivial conversations is going to fade into boredom soon anyway. Nothing has been lost, has it? Except for her dignity, and she can live without that.

Kakashi is already at the car once Hermione gets there, lounging against the hood with his hands in his pocket. If she doesn't have to deal with his blasé bullshit one more minute, it won't be too soon.

She's close enough to distinguish movements from shadows over his mask when he speaks. "I'm not very good at this," he says, tone carefully modulated.

Hermione's steps falter to a stop as she carefully bites her tongue, catching a number of scathing comments before they slip out. Why must he do this now? Right when she's moved past all the painful stages and reached vindictiveness.

Kakashi is looking past Hermione's left shoulder, where the entrance to the pool is. Hermione sighs and lets her head fall forward until she can see her stomach. If this is him manipulating her he's good at it, her anger is folding like a house of cards. Looking up again she catches his eyes on her before they snap back to the building. "I noticed." Hermione keeps a smile on her face as she says it, and it's not a hundred percent fake, maybe seventy.

"I come from Konohagakure, or Konoha, which is the military center of our country, Hi no Kuni." Kakashi's words sound rehearsed.

"Okay," Hermione fishes out the car keys, "why don't you tell me more about it in the car? I'm freezing."

There are no floodgates opening. Kakashi still says less than nothing once or twice on their way home, but he _tries_ to answer most of Hermione's questions. That is something, at least. She learns of the vast deciduous forests that's given Konoha its name, wonders if the trees growing there are really as large as they sound, and comes to the conclusion Konoha shouldn't be called village at all considering the number of inhabitants. Kakashi focuses on facts over feelings, and there are no personal anecdotes or reminiscing, but it's new knowledge to feed her starving inquisitiveness.

"Thank you," Hermione says as she drops Kakashi off ten minutes later. He looks at her wordlessly for a few seconds, bent down to peer in through the open door.

"See you around," he finally answers. Hermione can't help her smile. He's not very good at this, is he? But at least it has become interesting again.

.oOo.

"Welcome home," Sunna greets Kakashi as he steps inside. "Did you have a nice evening?"

"Yes," he says as he unties his shoes and puts them away. He folds his eyes and brow into a smile, trusting his mask to hide the shape of his mouth. "The pools were very nice."

"They are. You can hang your swimwear in the shower overnight." Sunna gestures to the bathroom. "Then we're watching a movie, if you want to join us?"

Kakashi knows he should accept the offer, it's what a good guest does. But he is falling asleep where he stands. It's a paralyzing weariness, familiar after his first month here. He thought he was done with this now. "I'm sorry," he tells Sunna, "I'm tired, I'll probably go to bed. Maybe next time?" He usually joins them, they should be able to forgive him this transgression.

The smile he gets in answer is nothing but warm. "Fresh air and hot water tend to have that effect, huh?"

Not on Kakashi, not normally, but he nods none the less.

The negative impression of the bedside lamp hasn't faded from the inside of Kakashi's eyelids, and no matter how tired he was when he turned it off he is wide awake now. His pulse is thrumming in his ears, loud and fast against the pillow, and he turns onto his back. An itch is spreading in his legs, prodding him to get up and run. He'd listen to them if he had the energy.

Hermione had driven off in the car with the last drops of strength Kakashi had. Like the words spoken on their way home had drained his chakra faster than the sharingan ever did. Maybe they had, maybe this is some sick version of the Tsukuyomi Kakashi hasn't noticed being caught in. It doesn't feel like the Tsukuyomi, but would he be able to tell?

Unable to remain horizontal Kakashi swings his legs over the side of the bed and rests his elbows on his knees. This is a mess. This whole evening has been.

Over the last two weeks Kakashi thought they found a balance. He has tried to contribute more, and has avoided any tricky situations. He thought he was doing okay. Hermione broke up his days with her simple company and he had enjoyed having people around. Even the shinobi who keep to themselves can't manage the level of isolation the Icelandic countryside provides. The elemental countries are too crowded with people for that. Here Kakashi would be able to go weeks seeing only Sunna and Þorir, without even trying to be alone. It is unsettling.

Kakashi should have seen it in Hermione's eyes when she asked the question, should have deflected in another direction, should have said _something_. So many shoulds, and he'd botched them all. The incapacitating uncertainty that struck him as Hermione practically begged him to speak was terrifying. Conceptually, he'd rather go up against Uchiha Madara again than be put in another emotional minefield like that. He knows it is irrational, the _world_ would be at stake again if Madara was brought back, but that doesn't change the fact.

With a beating heart and hands stuffed in his pocket to stop the shaking Kakashi managed to make it right. Somewhat. The indecision had been written clearly on Hermione's face before she accepted the stilted gesture. Only the luck of being at the swimming pool and the time that gave him to strategize made it at all possible.

They will make Kakashi Hokage when he gets home, and there will be nothing he can do about it. As Hokage he will be needed for more than fighting – which he _can't do_ anymore, but his hearts speeds up from that thought alone and he wrenches his mind away before it gives out – and a huge chunk of the job is interpersonal. Politics and diplomacy will be important to guide them away from more wars, and Kakashi can't even make friends with a person who wants nothing but getting to know him. Hundred of thousands of lives on his shoulders, and they're all screwed, aren't they?

Raising his head to take weight off his neck Kakashi rubs his face and lets his eyes sweep across the room. His desk, his wardrobe, his bookshelf, the yellow glow of the keyhole. If he stays in here another second, he'll go insane. There's no need to turn on the lights to change into clothes and put on a mask. Whatever movie they're watching must be better than sitting alone in the darkness.

.oOo.

Hermione thinks about it as she's falling asleep: The town she can't find on the internet. The country she's never heard of. The holes in the narrative, and the questions not answered. The gravity-defying hair for Merlin's sake. And she wonders.

Then again; it's easy to see ghosts everywhere if you have lived a decade in a haunted house.


	6. Chapter 6

Kakashi can't stay at home. No matter how unresponsive his legs are, and how gravity is increasing until it feels like he's back in Kaguya's alternate universe. (The universe where Obito died for Kakashi for the second time, telling Kakashi he wasn't allowed to join them yet - and thinking about that is _not_ helping.)

Kakashi _can' t stay at home_. Because he refuses to fall down that well again, and because he fucked up with Hermione yesterday. He doesn't know if his graces are good enough for her to forgive him if she turns up today and he doesn't. Kakashi's a shinobi, and whatever this is he will push through and defeat it.

Feeding the sheep had been bad, and running is a disaster. The tiredness that hit him after the pool is still as crippling. There's a sluggishness Kakashi can't quite throw off, like he's all out of chakra. His muscles are fine, and he knows his stamina is more than enough for this, but they are somehow denying him access. There's a ditch just above the farm that he always leaps across, and he knows, a split second before leaving the ground, that he won't make it today. He's done this every day for a month now, and he knows the distance, but the response from his body is close to nonexistent.

Years of ingrained reflexes luckily kicks in, and Kakashi's chakra flares momentarily to protect his ankles from the impact with the muddy bank. He still slips when he lands, ending up on his knees and hands in the cold wet dirt before kicking himself back up. On the far side of the trench Kakashi takes a second to wipe his hands on a tuft of dead grass and regains control of his breathing.

This is not good.

For the first time he takes a straight route to the plateau. Before he gets there he almost twists an ankle twice, but at least he stays upright. Sitting down is heaven and hell, all at once, because he knows he'll have to get up eventually and make his way back. Resting might help with that, or it will take away his momentum and make it impossible. With elbows propped against drawn-up legs Kakashi closes his eyes and focuses inwards, trying to find any signs of what's wrong with him. He's neither a medic nor a sensor type though, and Byakugan is only for the Hyūga.

"Hi." Hermione is so late Kakashi had begun thinking today was one of the days she wouldn't show.

"Yo," Kakashi answers and raises his head to look at her. She's bundled up in her regular thick jacket, woolen scarf and hat to stave off the wind. He wants to continue, to start a conversation about something, but he can't come up with a single subject not already used. Pretending to be normal is hard when his thoughts move as stiffly as his legs.

Hermione foregoes her usual spot and sits down next to him. Having her this close is odd, people generally respects his personal space. A benefit is that the proximity makes it natural to look away, and Kakashi rests his eyes on the narrow valley that stretches out before them. The barren landscape is gray in the absence of snow and devoid of life save for a few farm animals strewn out in their pens. Since Kakashi got here he's come to appreciate the constant wind, it seems to blow life into the vastness.

"I wasn't going to come today," Hermione says. "Then I saw you running and I just." Kakashi can feel her eyes on his hands and knees. "Are you okay?"

"Maa," Kakashi answers, carefully keeping his tone light, "a little mud is nothing to worry about. I'll live." Hopefully. Because if this turns out to be an actual problem it's awfully far to a hospital that can untangle his chakra.

"I wasn't worried about the mud. It's just, I've seen how you usually move, and I saw you today." Hermione sounds thoughtful and horrifyingly present. "Besides, you didn't answer my question."

It's an observation, nothing more, which is fortunate since he can't give her anything else that's not an obvious lie. That she's seen enough of him to know from afar that something is different today is weird. That she's reacted to it like this is outlandish. People are supposed to shy away and let others deal however they see fit, not barge in and ask unwanted questions.

"Is it narcissistic of me to wonder if you came up here today only because I might be here?" By now Kakashi knows her voice enough to hear the smile before he turns enough to see it. He raises an eyebrow.

"I didn't know you'd be here, so probably." He tries to turn it into a joke, hoping Hermione will take the hook. She doesn't, Kakashi can see in the small crease between her eyebrows.

"But you didn't know I _wouldn't_ be here either." There's nothing Kakashi will say on that subject, and after a few seconds Hermione sighs. "Whatever," she concedes, "but for your information: I'll survive you standing me up once or twice, and if you want to hang out without the additional exercise I live right down there." Hermione gestures to her house. "I have tea, and a telephone."

No answer seems to be needed and Kakashi can't find the energy to find another topic. Coming here was obviously a lapse in judgement. The only thing it did was disrupt Hermione's plans for the day. Nothing but the wind and Hermione shuffling slightly next to Kakashi breaks up the silence for a long time.

"I'm getting the feeling you'd rather be alone," Hermione finally says. Kakashi can see he's got maybe a second before she stands up and leaves if he does nothing. It's alarming to realize he doesn't want that. He fought for this to continue yesterday, if he gives up now that was all in vain.

Kakashi's jaw move, but no sound comes out. "That's not it," he manages on his second try. "I'm just tired." Out of the corner of his eye he can see Hermione studying him as she aborts her motion to stand.

"Yeah?" She speaks carefully, like Kakashi might bolt any second. While not a wholly unreasonable concern, it does make him consider the option. "Couldn't sleep yesterday?"

A shrug seems like the easier answer, Hermione is smart after all. Admitting to anything like this is unheard of. It helps that no one at home will never know about it, but Kakashi still feels he exposes a vulnerability best kept secret. Shinobi don't get exhausted for no reason, and they definitely don't confess to not sleeping. It doesn't do to have your abilities up for question when your reputation is built on them.

"Is that my fault?" The voice makes Kakashi turn fully towards Hermione for the first time since she joined him. She's worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she watches him. Kakashi looks away.

"I don't know," he tells her, because he's getting the feeling that saying nothing would be worse. She shouldn't have to be another person he's messed up with his inability to handle relationships. Hermione's silence pushes Kakashi to continue. "I was exhausted when I got home, but then I went to bed and it just," he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry," Hermione says. Kakashi can't help but laugh at her. How can she possibly come to the conclusion any of this is on her?

"Maa Hermione, you give yourself too much credit," he tells her. "I'm perfectly able to be this tired on my own."

"I think we've already established I might be narcissistic?" There's a smile twitching in the corners of Hermione's lips as she allows Kakashi's averting joke.

"We did, but there's no need for you to take that as permission to keep going."

"I'll let you know that the world _does_ revolve around me, so I've got no choice." Hermione is grinning as she stands up and offers her hand. "Come on," she says. "You're obviously not running home, so you might as well walk down with me before you get a cold. If you're up for it, there's that tea I was talking about."

Rationalizing it with civility Kakashi takes Hermione's hand, and she's steadier than she looks as he lets her guide him to his feet. He's not sure about the tea, going back to Heimstaðir and falling into bed sounds like the better plan. On the other hand, his chances of falling asleep tonight will increase if he stays awake until then.

It ends with tea, off course. Hermione asks outright once they reach her house, and Kakashi's attempt to bail out on the account of being covered in mud falls on deaf ears. "Are you kidding me?" Hermione tells him. "This is a farmer's house. As long as we keep to the kitchen no permanent harm will be done." Saying no in any other way is too complicated, but Kakashi tells himself to keep it short.

Luckily, the conversation over the rims of their teacups is lighthearted and easy. Hermione tells Kakashi about some book she's read, and hopefully doesn't realize how little he absorbs. He tries to listen, he really does, but the words weave together in one long string of sounds and he finds himself staring emptily at the top of his book.

"I should get going," Kakashi says in a quiet moment. His teacup is empty, making it reasonable to withdraw.

"Do you want a ride?" Hermione says to Kakashi's back as he puts his cup in the dishwasher. He wonders if her face would give him any clue as to what her thoughts are. "It's quite a walk and you look pretty beat."

Kakashi turns around and Hermione's jaw is clenched under slightly pink tinted cheeks. He raises an eyebrow. "I'm quite capable of walking," Kakashi tells her. He has run between countries, he can shuffle back to Heimstaðir from here in far worse conditions.

To her credit Hermione doesn't push the issue. "Okay," she says instead, "but just so you know; I'm not going up to our usual place for a week, so if you go there it's only for your own sake. If you feel like hanging out you're more than welcome to come by though." She smiles to take the edge off her words.

"You don't think I know my limits?" Kakashi asks dryly. She's obviously doing this in some misguided attempt to keep him from running. Hermione looks pointedly at his knees and the sleeves of his shirt where caked grime is clinging.

"If you do, I'm not convinced you respect them," Hermione tells him, too serious despite her lips forming a smile. Kakashi has absolutely no clue how to answer that. The fact that he's made it through his own history alive is hardly a convincing argument to someone unaware of what that entails.

"I've got milking between seven and nine in the mornings and four and seven in the evenings. Lunch is at twelve with Kristín and Ingo. The rest of the day I'm mostly at home." Hermione's changing the subject, but far be it for Kakashi to protest. He should have managed a disarming answer to her earlier comment, but he still hasn't got one.

"Okay," he acknowledges. Obviously, he's expected to come by sometime in the next couple of days.

Hermione waves him off as he leaves, hanging around in the doorway. As Kakashi forces his resisting legs to move he wonders if she really meant the offer of a ride, it might have been nice. He can make it on his own though, there's no need to inconvenience anyone on his behalf.

* * *

AN: Let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I'm not a physician so beware of made-up medicine in this chapter. I know very little about knee injuries and haven't googled them as much as I could have.

* * *

"Jæja" the orthopedist says as he looks at the black and white picture of Hermione's knee. He spins around on his chair. "Cows can be dangerous, you should be careful."

_No shit_, Hermione thinks, but she grits her teeth together and silently wonders if he would have said the same thing to, for example, Kakashi. It hadn't even _been_ a cow, it had been a calf, and not a cute newborn one either.

"Is anything broken?" She asks. Nicely. Because she's raised well, and needs the doctor's medical advice.

"Not that I can tell. It should heal on its own. Stay off it for a couple of days, don't do anything painful after that, and if it still hurts two or three weeks from now we have a physiotherapist in the building." Hermione waits for a continuation that never comes.

"Okay," she says, "Should I wrap it or something? Get a brace?"

"If you want to. But it will not get you on your feet faster, and once you do a bandage or soft brace is mostly there to remind your brain to be careful." Hermione wonders if it's disproportionate to hate the man.

"Well then," Hermione stands up with the help of the crutches Kristín found for her, "thank you." The crutches mean she has an excuse not to shake his hand. It's a small win. Madame Pomfrey would have fixed this for her in a matter of minutes.

Ingo is waiting for Hermione, patiently holding doors and asking her what the doctor said. "Olafur is a good doctor," he says once they're in the car. "If he says you'll be fine in two weeks you will." The doctor didn't exactly say that, but Hermione can't bring herself to argue.

They stop at the supermarket on the way home, and Hermione hops inside to stock up on comfort food and snacks for her unwanted holiday. She needs chocolate to get through this. Managing the crutches and the shopping basket is a nightmare, and Ingo's disappeared to god-knows-where. Hermione wants to scream, or cry, and it's her luck to have a stupid calf run into her stupid knee just in time for her stupid PMS.

There's a mountain of Póló kexes, banana sprengjur, plain chocolates, pipp-bars, mint-chocolate ice cream, pineapple squash, skyr, and Doritos on the check-out counter when Hermione pays. If she's gone slightly overboard it's only because she won't be able to drive and needs reserves.

"Getting ready for the apocalypse?" Ingo says as he meets her outside the store. He's smiling. Hermione hasn't spent a lot of time with Ingo, but she likes him. His English is not the best, but he teaches Hermione random Icelandic phrases that she writes down with his help.

"Only a small one," Hermione tells him. He hands her a bag from the pharmacy.

"I got you some bandages," he says, "and one of those knee-supports, and some painkillers."

"Thank you." Hermione blinks at him, whatever she thought he was doing it wasn't this. "I have some cash," before she can get further Ingo stops her.

"Absolutely not," he says firmly. "You got injured working for us, whatever we can do to help, we will. No arguing." A wink follows the last part and Hermione can't help but smile. She's already tried arguing that she can work, and she lost.

"Thank you," Hermione says instead. She's touched, but also slightly mortified. Here she goes and injures herself so she can't work, which is an inconvenience to start with, and then Ingo and Kristín clearly feel the need to cover anything not paid for by her insurance. It's Hermione who should pay them for room and board since she's not contributing, but she hasn't dared say that out loud.

.oOo.

Kakashi knows he can't put it off any longer. He has continued his running, but in the mornings. Some of the responsiveness has returned to his body, but he sleeps more again, almost twelve hours a night. After lunch he's gone on walks along the road past Hermione's. If she's seen him she hasn't made it known. She told him to come over, but the unobtrusive way of doing it doesn't seem to work. Kakashi will just have to hope he didn't misunderstand her.

Patience is something a shinobi must learn, but it doesn't stop Kakashi's heart from making its presence known in the eternity it takes Hermione to get to the door. Maybe she isn't home. Maybe she won't be home until the week is up and he's no longer expected to do anything this complicated and can get back to hanging out in their usual spot.

Hermione's voice vibrates through the wooden door before she opens. "Kakashi," she says when she sees him. She's smiling even as she gestures to a phone she's holding pressed between her ear and shoulder. "Come on in." Not until she lets go of the door to grab the phone does Kakashi realize she's supported by a crutch on her other side.

"Yeah, that sounds rough, I hope it'll work out." Hermione painstakingly makes her way down the hall towards the living room as the voice on the other side takes over in a wordless string of sounds. She gestures with her head for Kakashi to follow.

Tactically; it's sound to buy time, so Kakashi does exactly that as he takes off his shoes and warm clothing. The social codes around cellphones are not something he's ever considered. It's not really been an issue until now. There's also the fact that Hermione is on crutches, and Kakashi gets the feeling she will expect some kind of reaction from him.

Delaying only works for a finite amount of time, and Kakashi awkwardly stops in the doorway to the living room when Hermione speaks again. "I know," she says while beckoning Kakashi to take a seat. "But you can do it, just don't decide to fail beforehand. My neighbor's here though. I have to see what he wants." The tinny, wordless voice takes over and Kakashi feels like a trespasser. "Good luck. Bye" Hermione says finally and end the call. The phone clatters as she drops it on the coffee table.

.oOo.

"Sorry 'bout that." Hermione leans back against the couch, her right leg stretched out with a cushion under the knee. Getting to the door had been unpleasant, but worth it to get rid of Amy.

"I can come back later," Kakashi tells her. "I interrupted."

"And thank god for that." Hermione smiles, but it's lacking feeling. "That was Amy," she tells him, "she went to uni with me before I quit and came here. Trust me, I'm grateful you gave me a reason to hang up."

Kakashi doesn't respond, and the silence plucks at Hermione. She wants to tell him, wants to tell _someone_, and Kakashi is the only one around. The phone call picked at a scab Hermione had managed to push out of her mind, making it itch again. It'll be all she thinks about anyway.

"I hung out with her and these other two girls, studying together, having lunch, that sort of thing, I thought we were all friends. Turns out I was wrong." Hermione shrugs. She can tell on Kakashi's stance he's uncomfortable. Calling her mother would be a better option, only Hermione thinks she prefers Kakashi's silence to her mother telling her that she's making things up. Or worse, that it's unsurprising. Kakashi should be provided with an exit though, because Hermione has got a busted knee and PMS and now this, and her mind's running a hundred miles a minute, and it's completely fair if he wants out.

"Listen," she says, "it's that kind of day. No hard feelings if you want to take off, but if you're staying; please sit down." To Hermione's astonishment Kakashi takes a chair. There's a tenseness around his eyes that Hermione can't decode with so little of his face visible. Maybe she should have been more precise than "that kind of day", Kakashi's not the most perceptive guy, who knows if he understands what she meant?

"How did you know you were wrong?" Kakashi tilts his head slightly with the question, as if Hermione is a puzzle for him to solve.

Reaching backwards in the conversation Hermione realizes he's talking about the friendship. "Well," she starts, "I started hearing about things I wasn't invited to. Small stuff at first, and I tried thinking it was nothing, and that I had other friends, but it got bigger." Talking about it puts an uncomfortable heaviness in Hermione's chest. It weights down her lungs and blocks her throat. She had tried, she really did, but it hadn't mattered. "Then there was this time when they went for coffee during a break, and I was sitting next to them, but I wasn't invited," she picks at her nails, "and I decided never again."

"A few weeks later I understood why they'd kept me around; I had a new study group, and they showed up and played nice. And copied all my answers for an upcoming assignment. Didn't even ask first." The silence from Kakashi is deafening. A quick glance shows his face to be carefully blank before Hermione's eyes find their way to the window. He obviously didn't realize what he was getting into when he stayed, but Hermione decides that's on him and articulates the notion screaming in her head. "I just sometime wish I was born stupid," she says, "and with a pleasant personality."

The thought is not a new one, but she's never put words on it before, not even in writing. For all that Hermione loves her sharp mind she'd trade it in a heartbeat if it meant never again wondering if she is endured rather than liked. If it meant never again being kept around simply because she was great at academics. Because she had _tried_ to be different at uni, less of know-it-all, obnoxious, questioning Granger and more easy-going and relaxed, but it apparently hadn't been enough.

"Anyway," Hermione continues, valiantly putting a little cheer in her voice. "That's what you interrupted; Amy trying to guilt trip me into helping her with a class she's retaking. I know I should tell her to get lost, and I've tried to, but it always ends with me slipping away quietly. So, thank you for sparing me the humiliation." Hermione has made it without crying this far, she can't start now. It will scare Kakashi off and she can use the distraction of company. She leans her head back as she takes a slow, deep breath and wills the moisture in her eyes back down her tear ducts. It works, marginally.

Opposite of Hermione Kakashi is not far from the wide-eyed look he'd sported at the pool. Hermione thinks she understands it better now. A genuine smile finds its way to her face, she can feel it in her chest. It's a perfect distraction from her own feelings. "Right," she says, "you're not very good at this, are you?" Kakashi's chin moves, but whether from unspoken words or grinded teeth Hermione can't tell. "You're supposed to say something along the lines of; _oh, that sucks, I'm glad you got away from those idiots_. After that you're good to change topics." Whatever else Hermione might wish to hear, she will never dictate. It would need to be real.

"Oh, that sucks, I'm glad you got away from those idiots?" The words sound so foreign coming from Kakashi Hermione can't help but laugh.

"Here," she says, reaching into the bag next to her and throwing a chocolate in Kakashi's general direction. His reflexes are lightning fast as he catches it. "Have a banana sprengjur for your hard work." He eyes the piece of candy skeptically, but Hermione's decently sure he's smiling under the mask. "I'd offer you tea, but I'm slightly out of commission," Hermione says and gestures at her knee.

"I think I can handle tea," Kakashi says noncommittedly.

"Perfect, I take mine with a splash of milk." A second to regroup could do them both well, Hermione thinks, and tea is grounding.

Kakashi disappears to the kitchen, the piece of candy still in his hand. For a second Hermione wonders is he'll eat it out there or take the opportunity to throw it away. She tries listening for signs of either but can't tell. Without company to distract her the anxiety starts to creep back in the space left after the dried up tears, making her question everything she has said since Kakashi showed up. It's stupid, nothing can be done about it now and it turned out okay, but it's not to be helped.

The thing is, even if she made Kakashi uncomfortable, and even if that makes her stomach clench now, it had felt good at the time. The response might have been a little lacking, but at least now somebody _knows_. And Kakashi doesn't seem to judge her by it. As far as she can tell. Yet.

Hermione has always talked her way through stuff, whenever there has been someone around to talk to. Putting words to the jumbled-up pieces floating around in her brain put them in some semblance of order and made them easier to deal with. "I don't need you to try and solve my problems," she'd told Ron once, "I just need you to listen." It's a lifetime ago now, before everything turned sour and she lost what she'd once thought would be forever. At least Kakashi is unlikely to attempt to give her unneeded practical advice.

.oOo.

Kakashi makes teas in Hermione's kitchen. He's seen her do it twice, and he might have lost the sharingan but its perfect recollection isn't needed here. With teacups and strainers already on the table Kakashi waits for the kettle to boil. Hermione's stuck in the living room, out of sight, and he allows himself a short moment to breathe. The edge of the countertop digs into his palms as he leans against it, head bowed forward.

The coiled feeling of adrenaline is abating, leaving behind renewed weariness. Hermione must have read his uneasiness off him this time, and decided to show some mercy, but he's not sure that helped. She'd been a better support over the phone for someone she disliked than he'd ever managed to be for the students he cared for. Her words for him had only driven that point home. This shouldn't have to be complicated.

Vulnerability freaks Kakashi out, there's no other way to put it. He doesn't do it, and he can't handle it in others. A shinobi must never show weakness, after all. But Hermione is no shinobi, and as such doesn't know the rules. If she did Kakashi suspects she might disagree with them. Hearing her confession just minutes ago was jarring. The worst part is that Kakashi can relate to the feeling. At the academy he'd been approached by numerous kids who seemed to want nothing but a chance to either gain from his prowess or bring him back to their level. The fact that he was much younger than them only made it worse. He hasn't thought about the academy in years, had almost forgotten it, and now here it is at the top of his mind. Great.

He used to hate teamwork, because it always held him back. Now he knows it's all depending on the team. That it doesn't have to be that way. There are always people at your level, better even, you just have to find them. Maybe that's what he should have told Hermione, if he could only figure out how. Preferably in a timely manner too.

"Do you play boardgames?" Hermione asks as Kakashi brings the tea out to the living room. "Because there's a Ticket to Ride if you have the time to spare." It's not a game Kakashi has ever heard of, but he has little to lose by agreeing.

Knowing the game and the rules gives Hermione a clear advantage to start with, but it's not a complicated setup and Kakashi catches up quickly. Unfortunately, the cards are too small to drink tea behind, and Kakashi juggles cards, book, teacup and mask in different combinations while the heat of the liquid rapidly fades. He's using three purples and a locomotive to claim Warszawa to Berlin when Hermione speaks.

"So," she says casually, "how are you doing? Did you catch up on sleep?" Kakashi moves his marker seven steps before looking at her.

"I did," he tells her. Hermione doesn't need to know details, it was a simple yes or no question.

"Did it help?" Hermione takes a yellow car, turn a black one up from the deck, and draws from the deck next. Kakashi wonders if she's doing it to take her attention off him. If she thinks that will make a difference somehow.

Taking the two black cars now on the table isn't great for postponement, but Kakashi needs them to get from Berlin to Frankfurt. He doubts a longer turn would help him figure out an answer anyway. The evasion he means to use is halted by Hermione speaking again. "Listen," she says, lowering her cards and catching Kakashi's eyes. "If you don't want to talk about it just say so, okay? I know I'm being too pushy and invasive and are forcing you to talk about things you don't want to, and I'm _trying_ not to ask those things, but I don't know which they are, and I'm going stir crazy second-guessing myself here."

Hermione's mouth snaps shut, and she closes her eyes for a second. "Sorry," she says as she opens them again, "really sorry. I'm hopeless at keeping things inside, I know it's annoying. Please ignore my meddling and keep reacting however you see fit."

Moving forward with her turn Hermione claims a route somewhere, Kakashi can't really tell. His head is spinning, in both senses of the word. The first time Hermione acted like this; he left, and that was wrong. The second time; he said nothing, and that was wrong. Tactically, the next step would be to say _something_ this time, but there are no words to be found. He will screw this up. He will be Hokage when he gets home. He will screw that up too. He should get to his turn, but he can't remember the rules.

"Hey," Hermione says and Kakashi knows he's supposed to do something, he does, but, "hey!" Kakashi looks up at the sharper tone. He knows a command when he hears one. "Are you spiraling into a panic attack?" Kakashi has no idea how he'd know, or what she's talking about really. He definitely doesn't know how to answer. "Okay, too complicated question." Hermione's tone is calm. It should be angry or disappointed or something, but it's not. "Tell me five things you can see." It's an order, albeit a strange one. Shinobi follow orders.

"Train carts," Kakashi says, "map, cards, stations, markers." Speaking is easier than he imagined.

"Good. Now four things you can touch."

"Why?" Kakashi can't help but ask. He was never the best at blindly doing what he's told, and it hasn't gotten better with age. Hermione's smile is crooked and her eyes piercing in a way Kakashi can't quite translate.

"It's a grounding technique," she explains, scratching at her chin. "Five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste. You were-" she hesitates slightly - "unresponsive, and I figured it couldn't hurt."

It didn't, Kakashi thinks. He's not sure it helped either, but on the other hand he's having a conversation now. It might not be perfectly regular, but it's doable and on a far better topic than a minute ago. Kakashi puts down three red cars and claims Kyiv to Smolensk. Silence while doing something can at least pretend to be uncomplicated.

They exchange a few words over the game, but Kakashi's mind is occupied with the things he couldn't answer. Doing more than one thing at a time is well within his capabilities, but Hermione's familiarity with the game is showing. He was given a free pass away from the question of whether sleeping had helped. Kakashi could take it, won't even need to admit he doesn't wish to answer it, because they left it behind already. If only his mind could do the same, it would be appreciated. As it is, the earlier topic grows like a weed over all his thought, breaking in jagged edges against the memory of Hermione's voice as she called herself pushy, invasive and annoying. It's not the first three words he would use to describe her.

"It didn't help," Kakashi finally says as Hermione is busy trying to build a tunnel between Marseille and Roma. She looks up at him, confusion in the lines on her face. "Sleeping," Kakashi clarifies, "I'm still tired." The words are heavy on his tongue, fighting against being formed, but they come out sounding surprisingly normal. It's for Konoha, he tells himself, he's doing this for Konoha, and he can make sure they never know of this temporary shortcoming of his.

"Yeah," Hermione backs out of her tunneling project, "I figured." She looks across the table at Kakashi, and from the words she could be frustrated or disappointed or a number of things, but she's not. She gives Kakashi a small smile.

No follow-up questions come, and they get back to playing. Kakashi feels fuzzy, his heart beating fast. The sky stays where it is. Nothing comes crashing down.

The light has begun to fade outside as they count the final score. "Not bad for a first-timer," Hermione tells him. "You're welcome for a rematch tomorrow if you want."

"Hm," Kakashi narrows his eyes, "maybe I will. I can't really let this score stand, can I?" He doesn't care much about winning things like this, but for the sake of the game he can pretend. It wouldn't surprise him if Hermione sees right through it.

"Well, I might hold you to that," Hermione grins easily. "I could use some company if I'm going to survive this convalescence."

Kakashi realizes on his way back he never asked her about the leg. Dealing with these things at home is easier; he always finds the details out beforehand, through the backchannels, just like everyone else. But probably you are meant to ask civilians about their injuries? He'll have to make sure to do it tomorrow.

* * *

AN: This was not at all how I imagined this chapter going, but I've probably mentioned the way the characters have a way of doing their own thing, despite whatever plans I made. Let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Brief mentions in PTSD in this, consider yourself warned.

* * *

There are less than 400 feet from Hermione's house to Kristín and Ingo's, but most of it is a steep incline setting the bigger house further up the mountainside. A regular day, walking up there for lunch is draining. On crutches it's a bit of an ordeal, with getting back down being even worse. They've offered to come pick Hermione up by car, or bring her lunch to her, but she's declined. This little bit of exercise and fresh air is all she gets at the moment; she can live with some ache in her arms and shoulders.

Kakashi comes within sight as Hermione starts her way back, and she's made it only halfway when he joins her. He's early, or would be if they decided on a time yesterday. The living room's a mess, the dishwasher needs emptying and loading, and she's got laundry to take care of, but she decides not to care. If Kakashi's as obsessively neat as the soldiers she's seen on tv that's his problem.

"I'm early," Kakashi stops next to Hermione where she's taken a break during their greetings. They agree on that part at least. Hermione shrugs.

"Not really," she says, "I'll be home in –" she eyes the distance to her door – "three minutes, so if you can manage walking that slowly you're all good."

"I could hand-walk there in less than three minutes," Kakashi informs her dryly. Despite the badly disguised jab about her speed Hermione can't help but grin.

"Yeah? Prove it," Hermione challenges him. Kakashi looks at her, hands still in his pockets.

"I don't need to prove what I already know." Hermione reaches out and shoves his shoulder. She didn't think he'd let her, but he does.

"Easy to talk big with that attitude, isn't it?" Hermione smirks as she moves her crutches a step below her and carefully jumps forward on the gravel. Kakashi raises his trademark eyebrow at her, takes his hands out and effortlessly flips backwards into a handstand. "Er," Hermione manages, even as she's laughing. "I admit I didn't see that coming."

"You are falling behind," Kakashi informs her, tone deceptively flat. He is already several steps ahead of her. Jumping on crutches while laughing turns out to be more work than Hermione would have guessed. This is insane.

"You sure you're in the military and not in the circus?" It's hard to tell from this angle, but Hermione is relatively certain Kakashi is hiding a smile under his mask. "Because this looks like circus tricks to me."

"And you haven't even seen me throw a knife," Kakashi answers. Hermione has no idea if he's pulling her leg or not. She needs to come up with a plan to find out.

Kakashi waits for Hermione to catch up, making handstand look like something natural and easy. Hermione knows it's not, she did gymnastics for one horrible term in her youth, a few years before Hogwarts.

"What happened to your leg?" Kakashi asks once Hermione catches up. The tone is a little too nonchalant, making Hermione wonder if he has planned for the question. She's done the same herself, many times, and as such doesn't blame him. He could however use some practice on the delivery.

"A calf happened," she tells him, "it got a bit overexcited when I brought them milk, twisted my knee." Kakashi is still hand walking next to her, and the ridiculousness of the situation takes the sting of being injured out of the conversation.

"A tiny baby cow?" Kakashi asks her, and she can hear the skepticism even without seeing his face.

"Not so tiny when they're a few months old, trust me," Hermione reigns in the impulse to push him again. "You just wait, When I'm back om my feet I'll take you to meet them. See how cocky you'll be when you're the one handling four calves and two milk-buckets."

How Kakashi manages to shrug in his position Hermione can't understand. "I guess we'll see," he says, non-committedly.

They're drawing up on the house and Kakashi reverses his earlier backflip to get back to his feet. Normal people would fold with the joints, not against them, but maybe Kakashi never got that memo. Or he's showing off, it's not unlikely. "I stand corrected," Hermione tells him, "and slightly awed. That is a weird talent to have." She's still grinning, fishing for more information with no hope of actually getting it.

"I depend on my body to survive," Kakashi says as they enter the house, "it makes sense to practice things like balance, strength, agility, precision and coordination. They are no less important than how well you handle your weapons." Hermione has enough follow-up questions that she might burst. She bites down on all of them. Kakashi shared something. A _small_ thing, but it feels genuine and was not a response to a direct question.

Hermione leaves her crutches in the hall. It's over 48 hours since she was told to stay off it "a couple of days", and two is the definition of a couple. Walking on her leg without causing pain or limping is slow work, but doable over short distances. Not maneuvering the crutches around random pieces of furniture is a freedom in its own way.

"Tea?" She asks Kakashi, more out of habit than an actual craving on her part.

"Sure," Kakashi says behind her back as she passes the living room. She did leave it a mess, comforter piled on the sofa, computer, dirty dishes, and candy wrappers on the table, Ticket to Ride sitting on the floor.

"Why don't you get started on that," Hermione suggests, "and I'll clean this place up enough that we can sit here?" Kakashi managed his way around her kitchen fine yesterday, he should be able to do the same today.

On her way back from her bedroom Hermione pops past the bathroom and dry-swallows a painkiller. It's not ideal to take away the potential pain of an overexerted knee but it's better than cramps. Walking with the pace of a sloth provides her with plenty of time to think about the day before, not that she's done much else since.

Hermione's mind needs problems to solve, which is excellent when there _are_ problems to solve, and less excellent when her mind makes them up for something to do. Last night she spent an awful lot of time fretting about whether telling Kakashi about her time at uni was the right thing to do, or if she was using him and his emotional spinelessness for her own gain. He is obviously uncomfortable with discussions that enters emotional territory. Uncomfortable being an understatement.

It's impossible to know what her PMS-rant while playing had done to Kakashi; it could just have been a bout of normal speechlessness. The concepts of dissociation and panic attack are floating around in Hermione's brain though, refusing to leave. They bring a sour taste to the back of her tongue.

Kakashi is a grown-up, and needs to take responsibility for his own boundaries, Hermione reminds herself. After Ron she's sworn to never tiptoe around anyone ever again, not like that. She might need to change some of her ways, become less controlling for one, but she is not going to annihilate herself in the fear of stepping on invisible toes. Doing that to herself is as bad as staying would have been. It's not an easy line to walk, the one between changing and eradicating herself, but she will keep at it, and Kakashi will disappear come fall anyway. As long as she gives him the choice beforehand she must try not to feel guilty afterwards. She knows, however, it will be easier said than done.

"What do you think about drinking the tea before your rematch?" Hermione asks Kakashi as she places the dirty dishes on the pile in the sink and throws away the trash. The man in question was staring emptily on the kettle when she came in but is now turned toward her. "That way you won't have to do the whole cards-cup-book-thing you did yesterday."

"Sounds good," Kakashi says, and a hint of a smile shows around his eyes. Hermione chooses to believe it's a real one.

"You don't happen to know anything about messed-up knees, do you?" Hermione asks as water is poured in the cups. "The doctor wasn't very forthcoming and the best I've gotten from Google is to move slow enough I can avoid limping."

"Sorry," Kakashi says, "I've never twisted a knee, so I have no idea."

"Well, it was worth a shot," Hermione says. She carefully does _not_ ask about what else he's done, or how he got the scar over his eye. Grabbing a plate for their strainers and her cup she sets off for the living room. "I just hope I'll be back at work soon. Sitting around like this makes me feel horrible. I mean, I know it's causing problems for Kristín and Ingo, even if they say it's nothing to worry about." She bites her lower lip, glad that Kakashi is behind her.

"You are injured," Kakashi tells her, "there's nothing you can do about it." It's impossible to know what he's thinking; the voice gives too little away.

"True," Hermione agrees, "but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty about being here, eating their food, and doing nothing in return. What if it doesn't get better in a few days? Then what?" She hates being useless and having this much time to think, it's awful. But Kristín and Ingo made it clear she's to stay at home and take it easy, and she knows she can't bring it up with them again.

Silence falls for a moment before Kakashi answers. "Maybe, that is something you can figure out in a few days," he says. "If it's still relevant."

Hermione can't help a small twitch of her lips as she sets her load down on the coffee table. "I know," she tells him, "you're absolutely right, and I _know_ that, intellectually, I just fail at _feeling_ it." Life would be easy if she could tell herself what to feel. Kakashi hums at her as she settles on the couch and he takes an armchair. Nothing more is said on the subject.

In for a penny, in for a pound, Hermione thinks as she resolves to move on to one of the subjects that's been reveling in head on her behalf since yesterday. "I've been thinking," she says as she watches Kakashi take the strainer from his cup and pull his book out of a pocket, "and you don't have to answer this, but have you had any physical check-up for the tiredness. Blood tests, that sort of thing?" Kakashi blows on his tea behind the book.

"Sakura gave me medical clearance to go here," he carefully says, "if that's what you mean?" There's an intangible wariness to him, and Hermione reminds herself that she is not responsible for knowing his boundaries. It's the first time he names anyone from his life, and Hermione wants to ask who this Sakura is, but that would derail her from her point.

Foregoing the question Hermione gets her own tea to distract her hands while speaking. "When I had just turned eighteen," she says instead, "something really bad happened. Several things, actually." Long since prepared non-magical versions of the events swim in front of Hermione for a second, but she trusts Kakashi will not ask for them. The less she lies the better.

The eyes watching her over the book are sharp, and the hand not holding the book in place is curled around the cup resting against Kakashi's leg. The china should be as scalding as the one Hermione holds, but Kakashi either doesn't feel it or pays it no heed.

"Afterwards," Hermione continues, "I was devastatingly tired." She swallows, looking out the window behind Kakashi. A few horses are grazing on the windy slopes. Living one's life outside in these conditions must be harsh. "I knew about PTSD, and I had expected the nightmares and flashbacks and panic attacks. If you'd asked me before I'd said that off course having nightmares interrupt my sleep would make me tired, but that wasn't it. At all."

Movement draws Hermione's gaze to Kakashi as he with a practiced move takes his thumb from the book and hooks it in the fabric of his mask, covering his face before lowering the book. His arms cross as much as possible with the teacup still in his right hand. Hermione has more lined up, has been saying this in her head over and over, and she presses on. From what she has seen over the last two times they've met, maybe even before that, he needs to hear this. After all, he'd once told her he was sent here because his boss thought he needed a break.

"My parents were, away," Hermione takes a sip of tea to loosen up her throat, "but when they got back I lay on the couch for weeks. It was all I could do. Getting there from bed was an accomplishment, I couldn't do anything, I just…

"I had a therapist, and she said stress does the strangest things to you. I knew I had PTSD, but I started reading about stress in general and I realized different diagnoses overlap quite a bit. When I knew what to look for I could see signs of toxic stress _years_ back. Long before the PTSD became an issue. So, there I was; eighteen years old, with symptoms of PTSD and burn-out, and an autonomic nervous system so out of whack there was nothing in-between feeling either keyed up or paralyzingly fatigued.

"The thing is; when you're run down like that, your energy-reserves goes away. Any little thing could drain them completely, and I had to fight for things that used to be effortless. I couldn't plan, or follow instructions, or figure out how things worked. It was…" Hermione shakes her head, pushes herself out of emotional territory to keep going. "High amount of stress for long time breaks down not only your body, but your brain too," she says. "It can get better though. _I_ got better. With a lot of help."

Hermione falls silent, she's losing her bearings. Her insides are a jumbled chaos and whatever else she had planned to say is gone now. Warmth against her hands remind her she's got tea to drink. She takes the distraction.

"I don't expect you to answer any of this," she tells Kakashi. "And I don't claim to know anything about you, or your history. I just wanted you to know that I can relate to being tired in a way that makes normal things impossible."

The stillness in Kakashi provides a stark contrast to the twitch of his hand. He blinks. The first syllable of Hermione's planned topic-change hangs alone in the air between them as Kakashi rises. He brings the cup to the kitchen. Hermione can hear the tea pouring down the drain and the soft sound of china hitting glass reverberating through the piled dishes. She should say something. Stop him.

He doesn't slam the door on his way out; he closes it carefully.

"Fuck," Hermione says into the palm of her hand. In some situations it's a perfectly reasonable word. "Shit." She rubs her cheek. There's no point trying to follow him, she has no chance of catching up.

This is not how Hermione imagined Kakashi establishing boundaries. Now that it's happened it seems like the natural response. She shouldn't be surprised. Hermione closes her eyes and breathes through the storm raging inside her; tries telling herself that it was an honest mistake, that she didn't mean to push him, that if she'd been a little faster to change the subject it would have been fine. It helps marginally. This time she can't even blame it on PMS, this is all her. She needs to learn not everything has to be on her terms.

The worst part is that apologizing is close to impossible. Hermione can't drive. Can't walk. Doesn't know his phone number. And Kristín or Ingo would help, if she asks for it, but she imagines their faces when they answer and knows she can't do it. She'll have to wait for Kakashi to come back or her knee to heal, whichever happen first. Probably the latter.

She really fucked up this time.

* * *

AN: Bit of a cliff hanger here, but I've waited with publishing this chapter because of that, and it should be less time before the next one. In the meantime; let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

The knocks don't come until after Hermione has locked the front door. She freezes, heart beating fast against her ribcage. There's no peephole. Even if there was it is pitch dark outside, the night overcast and rainy. If this was a movie Hermione would be killed in the next couple of minutes. She hopes it not a movie. Her life has had enough fiction-worthy contents as it is; statistically it should be smooth sailing from here. But since when has probability taken into account what has already happened?

The problem is that whoever is outside might need help. They could have a broke down car or something, and the slide of the bolt would have told them she is here. Hermione is not the kind of person who refuses help to those in need. Especially not for ridiculous reasons like fear. Especially with a voice in her head screaming that it _could_ be Kakashi. _Kakashi_. Who walked out this afternoon, probably to never return.

Or it could be a murderer. It's even odds.

If Hermione opens the door with her left hand, she can rest her right one on the crutches. Hopefully it serves as enough of a weapon to get the door shut again, should the need arise. She takes a breath. Moves the step back to the door and tries to look casual while grabbing the crutch. Shifting the thumbturn must make a sound, but Hermione doesn't hear it.

It is Kakashi. Out of all the scenarios she's imagined since he left, none come close to this. Hermione is _not prepared_ for this. At all. The pulse should have slowed now that she's no longer getting murdered, but the sight of her neighbor in his usual relaxed stance mostly makes Hermione faint. Realizing her lungs is screaming for oxygen and filling them with air helps bring things back in focus.

"Do I need to worry about that?" Hermione follows Kakashi's eyes to the crutch. Of course, he notices. Awkward.

"No, sorry," Hermione says and puts it back against the wall, "you scared me is all. Or well, not _you_, really. But someone knocking on the front door of my very isolated, very lonely house at half past ten." Hermione is calming down. It's only Kakashi, she can do this. "You're not here to murder me I assume?"

"No," Kakashi says. Only the light in the kitchen is still on, and it casts a sickly yellow glow through the window, making weird shadows across Kakashi's face. The longer she looks the more convinced Hermione gets that the carefree pose is forced. There's no proof, just feeling. A strangeness not only brought by the time or how his visit ended this afternoon.

"Are you coming in?" Hermione asks when the silence gets too thick and a gust of wind wraps ice around her bare arms. "It's freezing."

Kakashi's shoulders twitch, and Hermione backs away from the door to lean against the white wall. The doorway to the rest of the house is right beside her, but Kakashi stills once the door is closed, making no motion to take of shoes or jacket. His hair is wilting, heavy with rain. Something should be said, but Hermione doesn't know what. She wants to apologize. Explain she meant no harm. He's here for a reason though, and there's a risk she'll hijack the conversation if she gets started on everything she did wrong this afternoon. She will scare him off again.

The relative darkness doesn't allow for colors or small details. It both hampers and facilitates communication. "I'm sorry," Hermione says in the end, her voice too loud in her ears, "about before." She needn't have worried about saying too much. All words fail her as she waits for a response. She wonders if Kakashi can hear her heartbeat too.

"Why do you insist on taking the blame for things I do?" Kakashi's words are slow and rough around the edges. "I already told you I'm bad at this." Hermione wonders what expression is on his face. If any.

"You did," Hermione agrees. Her throat is tight, only allowing for small words. "So, I shouldn't push," she tries to explain, "I shouldn't force you into things. I should reign myself in and definitely _not lecture_. And I'm sorry I'm doing those things anyway. I try not to." Crossing your arms over your chest is proven to reduce your uptake on what others say. Hermione does it anyway. Because she's cold, and because this conversation was not supposed to be about her.

"Have I given you the impression I want you to do that?"

Hermione opens her mouth. Closes it again. What question is she supposed to answer here? Is Kakashi saying what she thinks he's saying – or the complete opposite? "I don't know what you," Hermione's voice breaks. She looks away, hoping the darkness will hide the sheen she knows is in her eyes.

Hands still in his pockets Kakashi leans back against the door. He takes a breath, Hermione can see his chest expanding. Takes another one. "I apologize," he finally says, formal and deceitfully calm, "I didn't mean to make you to feel like that."

Laughing is the least propriate response to Kakashi's words, but Hermione does it anyway. It's either that or cry. She is too tired to cry. "You didn't," she manages. "It's not." Tears falling is completely normal when laughing this hard. Merlin, Hermione is losing it. She tries speaking again; "I just." Wrestling herself under control works only because the fear of Kakashi walking away is sharp enough to pierce through the pandemonium.

"Okay, miniature mental breakdown. Sorry about that." She wipes her cheeks. "What I was trying to say was you don't have to worry. I know I'm an obnoxious know-it-all control freak. That's what I'm trying to tell you: _I know_." Ron had told her enough times. When he was annoyed. When he was serious. When he was scratching her back at night. How difficult she is to live with had been a standing joke with everyone they knew. She'd laughed only on the outside, in the end.

Kakashi watches her quietly. Hermione envisages being an occlumens. Unfortunately, she's too righteous to use invasive techniques of any kind to satisfy her need for knowledge, no matter what Ron thinks. And Ron needs to get out of her head. When Kakashi speaks it is nowhere near what Hermione expects. "Tea?" he asks.

The laugh that slips out this time is short and cracked. Hermione rubs her eyes. "Sure," she says, "why not?" It's late. She should go to bed. But for once Kakashi is taking some kind of initiative and it's not like she's got milking in the morning.

The brightness of the pendant lamp over the table stabs at Hermione's eyes as she enters the kitchen. She turns it off. Kakashi doesn't have to see her face in that much detail, the light from the kitchen hood alone is revealing enough. The book she refuses to call her diary is sitting on the table. It's an exclusive hardback with thick, blank pages. She filled six or seven of them with neat writing before going to lock up. As she moves the collection of heavy thoughts wrapped in their blue cover she wonders if Kakashi was standing outside in the rain when she was writing. If he watched her.

Hermione's phone is still connected to the stereo in the kitchen, and for her sanity's sake she presses play on the active album. The soft strings of Goldmund's Corduroy Road float around her, and the familiarity eases her insides. Unprompted Kakashi starts on the tea. Hermione limps away to get him a towel for his dripping hair.

"Here," she says as she presents it. Kakashi is always in control of his body, but his movements now are micromanaged. He towels his hair. Takes the two steps to the doorway. Stands with his back to her as he wipes his face. Courtesy dictates Hermione finds something else to focus on, so she digs out matches and lights the candle on the table. The preference of living lights with their warm tones is one thing she didn't leave in the magical world.

Hermione has only two-thirds of her tea left when Kakashi speaks. She's acclimated to the silence and the detached voice snaps her eyes up from the candle flame. The book is nowhere to be seen; Kakashi's tea untouched apart from the hands wrapped loosely around the cup. "What were the symptoms," he asks the glass pane of the window. He could be looking at Hermione's reflection, or out in the nothingness. Hermione doesn't check. She's the one meant to answer either way.

"Symptoms?" Hermione answers, even if she has a hunch what he's talking about. Her mind is scattered, part of it left with their conversation in the hallway, part following the soft piano notes, part on Kakashi and his question. All of it is wide awake now.

"You said, earlier, about when you were a teenager." Kakashi can't even say the words, Hermione guesses. Jesus.

"PTSD," Hermione fills in for him, "burn-out, toxic stress in general?" Kakashi's eyes flickers to hers momentarily and any joke Hermione thought about making dies. "Okay," she concedes, "tell me what you already know and I can spare you from repeats."

The shrug comes off close to a flinch, and that's it, Hermione realizes. That's what is behind the composed façade. "Nothing?" she clarifies, because he _should_ know, at least about PTSD. It's 2019 and soldiers - for all that their environment might reek of testosterone and manly inabilities to deal with emotions – should at least have a basic understanding of PTSD, shouldn't they? Hermione breaths. Pushes down her bafflement and pretends everything is normal.

"I have no idea where to start," Hermione says. The sorting hat placed her in Gryffindor for a reason, however, and she might not be a medical professional, but she's done a lot of reading on this.

The thing is, Hermione loves sharing what she knows. All the little pieces of the universe that she has managed to slot together to form one picture is astounding in their simplicity once she gets them into shape. It gives a clarity where she doesn't have to remember things, because it is how the world works. When she gets her image right new facts slides effortlessly into place. Like they've been there all along. It's marvelous. Until something comes along that will neither fit nor be discarded and everything is upended. Only to slowly form a new view. More often than not it's a better one at that.

People tend to get a variety of annoyed and offended when she tries to explain things, not understanding that she only wants them to see what she sees. She never means to be a know-it-all, or to lecture or reprove; it just happens when she gets carried away. But Kakashi asked, and that gives her the opportunity to tell him.

With hands that gesture on their own accord. With a frankly inappropriate amount of enthusiasm given the topic. Hermione speaks.

She tells Kakashi the basics about PTSD and how she thinks it needs to be divided into two parts: Post-trauma and stress. How the stress reactions are overlapping an array of other stress issues. How stress breaks the autonomic nervous system and gets you stuck fight, flight or freeze mode. Staying clinical helps speaking about things that hurts even now, but knowing her experience can help someone else makes all the difference. Harry might have been said to have a saving-people-thing, but the older she gets the more Hermione understands he never had that. Harry has a problem with authority and a hero-complex. It's not the same. Between them it's Hermione who has always been the first to come to the aid of others, be it magical creatures or friends in need. But the low-key, every day, more typically female way she goes about it isn't the thing you write headlines about. No one will ever write about her.

"As for the symptoms, I'd have to get you a list," Hermione finally says. She's been speaking for too long already. "I have one, in fact. It's got like 50 or 60 items, all of which I had at one point or another." Kakashi blinks at her, fully turned towards her now.

"I'd advice against self-diagnosing though," Hermione tells him when it's clear he doesn't intend to speak. "Lots of things can give similar symptoms, and even with established PTSD or burn-out you could also have a malfunctioning thyroid or some deficiency that makes you tired. So," Hermione lets a shrug finish the sentence.

The silence from Kakashi is far less stifling with music in the background. Hermione sips what's left of her tea and focus on the candle in front of her, folding the paraffin edges with mindful fingertips. "So, you're saying I'm probably not having what you had? They just need to take some samples and they can fix me?" Kakashi says after a while, tone regulated and with a slight crease between his eyebrows.

Hermione barely manages to bite back a sigh. Of course, that would be the part he's choose to hear. "I'm saying you should go to a doctor and let them decide." It's diplomatic, but Hermione can do nothing else. She wants to rant about mental health problem and not being any less for having them, but this is not the time. "Do you want me to help you with gatting an appointment?" She asks instead, because she knows how impossible small things like that can be. Kakashi gets up every day, he feeds the sheep, and runs, and meets up with her. On the surface; he functions. Only Hermione has seen enough glimpses of something else to not take anything for granted.

Kakashi's hum is not an answer, but it will have to do. "Okay," Hermione says, "I'll set something up. I should be driving soon so I can take you if Sunna and Þorir are working." There is no refusal. It's as much of a win as Hermione thinks she'll ever get.

"I'm making myself more tea," Hermione says as the album starts over, "and a sandwich. You want something?" She eyes the untouched tea, Kakashi's hands remaining curled protectively around the cup. Sitting around in silence should feel more awkward than it does, but something to eat and drink will be a good distraction.

"I don't have my book," Kakashi says. Behind his mask his cheeks move up with the corner of his eyes, but the smile is far from joyful. It's the most expressive he's been all night.

Hermione fetches The Wee Free Men from her rather extensive collection of paperbacks and places it on the table. "For you to borrow," she says, "if you want to read something different. Now, do you want anything?"

They eat bread with cheese and jam, and Hermione lies without guilt when Kakashi asks if she's tired and wants to go to bed. Ticket to Ride can be worth more than sleep, and part of being an adult is the ability to ignore responsibilities. There is no reality in which Hermione kicks Kakashi out tonight. Not after he came back.

Conversation over the game is sparse but effortless, the heavy subjects laid aside for now. The album is on it's third repeat when Hermione regards the board diagonally, her cheekbone resting on her closed fist. She yawns.

"You are tired," Kakashi says. Dryly amused by the ginormous display of observation skill, Hermione raises her eyebrows with the smile that forms. "We can finish this another day." Kakashi gestures to the game.

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you are behind." Not by enough that anything's certain, but Hermione doesn't point that out. "I'm fine," she assures Kakashi. It's nearing one o'clock, but she can sleep in tomorrow. He can't. "If you're tired and want to go home, that's fine. You don't have to blame it on me." She said fine twice in ten seconds, Hermione notices. Her vocabulary does not profit from the hour.

Kakashi draws new tickets before answering. That doesn't bode well for Hermione's advantage. "I am quite awake," he says. _My heartrate is stuck over 80 and I couldn't sleep if I tried_, Hermione hears. It's in the way Kakashi's finger taps against his cards and the shuffle between positions.

"Still coming down from the adrenaline rush?" Hermione asks as Kakashi adds two of the tickets to his pile. It's foregone conclusion, expressed carefully to not mention the whys or hows, only that she understands. London – Amsterdam is claimed in the silence after her question, then Pamplona – Madrid. She never did expect an answer.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say." The syllables are formed too smoothly, like Kakashi's put a lot of effort into sanding away jagged edges. Hermione casually finishes her move of picking up cars.

"When?" she asks. Kakashi is staring blankly at his hand. The tapping has stopped. "Now, or…"

For a while it looks like there will be nothing more said. Like Kakashi took one step out on thin ice and is now afraid to move, cracks spreading out around him. Backwards or forwards, they're both equally likely to break the equilibrium. The shrug is slow, more of an exaggerated breath. "Now," he finally admits. "Earlier. In the hallway. This afternoon. Do you need more examples?"

Hermione centers her bodyweight and places the cards on the table. Leans forward enough that the edge of the tabletop bites into her forearms. "Not really," she says, and loosens her clasped hands enough that she can fiddle with her thumbnails. The implied question is a heavy one, but it's a warm weight that flutters in her chest. Because Kakashi asked it. "I think," she continues slowly, hoping she can get this right, "that there's two very different scenarios in there."

"If the topic is - in any way - about _you_, then you don't have to answer. At all." Hermione meets Kakashi's eyes with the last words. He swallows. "Ever." Of all the things floating around in her mind that is the most urgent one. "I don't mind you telling me you don't want to talk about things. In fact, that makes things easier for me. I believe that sharing things with others is the only way to relieve some of the pressure before you blow up. I know I'm like that. But you need to do you, not me."

Allowing herself a moment to gather her thoughts Hermione lowers her eyes to the board. She's getting used to Kakashi not cutting in. "When it's the other way around…" Hermione rubs her eyes. "I'm not sure anyone knows what to say, really. I know I usually don't."

An eyebrow raises on the other side of the table and Hermione feels her cheeks tugging upward as she raises her hands in the air. "Honestly. I don't. I share my thoughts when they seem relevant, and if not? People usually doesn't want solutions anyway, they just want to get it off their chest. They want to know they're not freaks for feeling that way, and that they won't be abandoned because they're hurting. Keep that in mind and you'll be fine. Oh, and be honest. Never lie."

Kakashi's stare is locked somewhere mid-air before he closes his eyes and deflates slightly. "Too much information?" Hermione asks. The movement of Kakashi's head could be interpreted as a nod. "Okay," Hermione racks her brain for the bullet point version. "You are allowed to _not_ share. When someone gets emotional; let them do most of the talking. And always be honest. Saying 'I don't know what to say' works more often than you think."

"Like now?" There's loss of tension Kakashi's voice and his eyes betray what might be a smile beneath the mask.

"Like now." Hermione wants to reach out to him, offer the kind of physical support she'd give other friends of hers. "It's your turn," she says instead and picks up her discarded cards.

The win goes to Kakashi this time. Hermione blames it on the fact she can hardly keep her eyes open. She offers for him to stick around, sleep on the couch if he doesn't want to battle the rain and darkness outside. That he declines is self-evident.

"You know where to find me," Hermione tells him as he zips up his jacket. There are more things she wants to say, but they will have to wait.

"Obviously," Kakashi answers, eyeing her crutches, "since you can't leave your house." The dry tone accentuates the smile, but Hermione can see beyond the joke.

"Good night Kakashi," she says in the cold air of the open door. He answers in kind.

* * *

**AN:** I'm aware I skipped some parts of Hermione's lecture on PTSD. If you – like Kakashi – don't have the basic knowledge of what it is, please type it into your search engine of choice. We'll come back to it however, as well as stress disorders. On that topic I also want to say that while I have experience in toxic stress and burn-out, I have no personal knowledge of PTSD. If I get things about it wrong; know that I mean no offence and please let me know how to correct it.

Thank you all for reading, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review. You mean a lot to me!


	10. Chapter 10

Kakashi stares blankly at the screen in front of him. He knows he's supposed to be reading the words on it, Hermione having found her list for him and all, but there's a reason he's been getting nowhere with the book she lent him.

Ironically, the lines where his eyes rest reads _Problem concentrating_ and _Difficulties processing information_. And, yeah. Okay. But that's normal when you're tired, right?

Duty demands he follow the list, top to bottom, and he sees the words but cannot quite grasp the concept of many of them. _Loss of vocabulary/Hard finding words_ he does catch, as well as _Sense of hopelessness_, _Shakiness_, _Blurry vision_, _Feeling faint_, _Dizziness_ and _Feeling sick/Having random fevers_.

Faintness describes the feeling in Kakashi's body well enough, but getting a fever after being outside in the rain at night is hardly random. It lasted less than a day anyway. His problems are clearly physical, and Hermione has already told him he's got an appointment with the doctor next week. He'll get some pills and it will be fine. Sakura just didn't know what to look for.

"Too much information?" Hermione asks him from the couch. The soft clacks of knitting needles accompany her voice. "You look a little empty." Kakashi looks up to find her watching him, hands moving on their own. He'd thought he was safe as long as she worked.

After the fever broke the exhaustion remained, but given how he messed up last time Kakashi figured he couldn't stay away for more than two full days without Hermione possibly taking offence. He couldn't risk that. Dragging himself here after lunch today had been unpleasant, but shinobi doesn't show weakness. Hermione had let him in, and hadn't asked questions, and for a while Kakashi thought he'd gotten away with it. Apparently, he was wrong.

"I'm fine," Kakashi says in response to the question, "just a little tired." Hermione did tell him to be honest but saying he doesn't want to answer something so innocuous will draw attention. Tiredness is his problem anyway, so he is telling the truth.

"Just a little?" The needles fall silent as Hermione's focus turns more fully to Kakashi. It makes him want to run away again. If he had the energy. Instead he looks back at the laptop, pretending to read. "Kakashi," Hermione says, calling his attention back, "are you okay?" There's a tension to Hermione's face, a softness in her voice, and Kakashi doesn't know what to do with either.

"I'm fine," he repeats. She should have heard him the first time, and this line of conversation should be deflected, but his brain is uncooperative and refuse to tell him how.

"Not in that voice, you're not." Kakashi has no idea what voice she means, he made very certain not to let his emotions bleed through. He is trained in undercover work, he knows how to keep things to himself. "So, I'm guessing more than a little tired?" Hermione says it with a smile and raised eyebrows, more joke than anything else. Maybe that's what make Kakashi shrug.

He was okay when he got here, a little faint from walking, but _okay_, and he'd been keeping up with the discussion and drunk his tea and everything. Hermione had brought out the laptop with the list they'd talked about last time, asking if Kakashi still wanted to see it, and he did. He might not be mentally ill, but maybe there are things to help understand Hermione. Only now that the computer sits on his lap, his brain has taken the minute of silence as permission to check out. His energy drained out like he's been overusing the sharingan he no longer possesses.

"Okay," Hermione says. She puts her yarn and needles on the table and stands up, moving much easier than a few days ago. "I'll take that." She grabs the computer doing an awkward half-crunch in front of Kakashi to accommodate for her knee. "You want to lie down for a while?"

"I…" Kakashi has no idea how to answer. Shinobi doesn't show weakness. He has failed already if Hermione feels the need to ask this. Now, he needs to figure out how to negate the damage.

"It wasn't really intended as a question." Hermione tries to make it sound like an order but she's a civilian.

"I'm good." It comes out sharper than intended, the force of it kicking some life into Kakashi's body. Hermione withdraws back to the edge of the couch.

"Alright." She drags her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her face. "Alright. For the record though; if you're not, that's okay too."

Kakashi wants to get to his feet and scream that it's not, that nothing about this is _okay_, preferably followed by a dramatic exit. Simultaneously, he wants to curl up in the armchair, put his head on the armrest, and shut out the entire world. He does neither. Shrugs. Turns his head to look out the window. The sun is shining contentiously, reminding him that slacking off is unacceptable. He hasn't been running for three days now.

The knitting starts up again. Kakashi leans his head back and closes his eyes, not to sleep but for the illusion of being alone. What is he doing here? He could be in his room now, away from Hermione's prying eyes and impossible questions. Why does he keep doing this to himself? They'll make him Hokage, and it will be a horrible decision, but it's theirs to make. This isn't helping him with anything, it is only making things worse.

The silence is unbroken except by the clacks of needles for a long time. Kakashi wonders what they would think about him, back home, if they saw him now. They are all fighting for Konoha, rebuilding it for the future, and Kakashi's not certain he is fighting for anything, anymore. Tsunade was right about him after all, it is better that he stays away.

"Do you want me to teach you to knit?" Hermione says, interrupting Kakashi planning his retreat. "Or crochet maybe, that's easier to get started on." The offer is casual, having no trace of their previous discussion. She looks up at Kakashi, smile honest and open.

"Old ladies do that." Kakashi raises an eyebrow. She can't honestly believe he's one for arts and crafts, especially needlework.

"And?" It's drawn out enough to be part joke, part challenge. "Does that mean you're unable to?" These are dangerous grounds, so Kakashi merely hums in answer. "I promise you, no special ladies-parts are needed to crochet."

"Maa," Kakashi says, "we'll see about that. Sometime. Maybe." He has wiggled his way out of worse jams than this one. "Now, I have sheep to feed." A little early, but he's done with this day.

The way Hermione laughs at him does not bode well. "I'll hold you to that." It's a threat, delivered like a promise. "Next time you come by I'm bringing out the hooks. If you can swallow that manly pride of yours, you might even like it." She chucks one of the balls of yarn at Kakashi, who picks it from the air. It's rough under his fingers, and not as tightly wound as he thought. Throwing it in an arch from his left to right hand displays abysmal aerodynamics. Over a short distance he can account for that.

The ball bounces of Hermione's forehead. She tries to look scandalous but fails to laughing. "See," Kakashi tells her, "I'm perfectly able to handle the yarn already. No lessons needed."

"And in such creative and productive way, too." To smile at her comment feels like a betrayal against everyone back home who's picking up Kakashi's slack. He buries the sting.

"Well, I'm a genius," Kakashi says, "and one that needs to get going." What little energy he collected during the lull in conversation is dwindling.

"Want a ride?" Hermione asks as she gingerly stands up. "I'm trying to help out with milking this evening, and if I can do that I can drive." Her smile has dimmed but the tone is warm.

"I'm fine." Kakashi feels like a broken record, but any stronger adjectives would be a lie. He will under no circumstance allow her to drive him home.

Hermione nods. He watches the movement from behind as she leads the way down the corridor to the hall. A normal day, Hermione is difficult to understand. Today, it's downright impossible. Kakashi cares less about that than he should. He dresses in silence, and when he reaches for the door handle Hermione's fingers brush against the arm of his jacket. The touch isn't solid enough to transfer through the fabric, and she withdraws almost before Kakashi realizes what happens.

"It's Friday," she says as Kakashi turns to her, "take the weekend to sleep and rest up, okay, and I'll see you next week?" For a piercing second Kakashi hears that he should stay away. Leave her alone. That he has failed with her as he has with everyone else. The crease between her eyes reminds him of Naruto, however, seventeen years old and still refusing to give up on people. And of Rin, in the moments he didn't push her away. Kakashi swallows. Closes his eyes as he fills his lungs.

"Sure," he says, "next week." Kakashi opens the door and leaves. Because going home is the plan. He is not running away. He just needs to sleep and get this virus out of his system.

* * *

AN: Well, this turned out a short one. Hopefully the next one will be longer. Thank you for your response to the last chapter, I love hearing what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: Long time, no post. I've got a good reason though, namely I wanted the next chapter done before I posted this. It will be up shortly.

* * *

Kakashi is certain he never agreed to this. He didn't explicitly say no either, because Hermione asked him at a time when he didn't dare upset her more than he already had, but he'd thought he could weasel his way out of it later. It's Thursday now, and they're already on their way, and it's too late to get out of anything. Yet, he found a way to deal with twelve-year-old horrifyingly shy, scared-of-her-own-shadow Sakura; her can find a way to deal with this.

The talking in the car can hardly be called a conversation. Hermione rants about something called Brexit that is apparently a mess. Kakashi looks out the window on the ice-columns frozen where water finds its way down the mountainside, lets Hermione's words wash over him, and tries to hum in the right places. He wishes he'd been allowed to eat breakfast.

He leaves Hermione knitting in the waiting room and follows a woman with hair greyer than his through a pale-yellow corridor. She's his doctor, Kakashi's gathered. Apart from that, he has no idea what to expect. For as long as he remembers, his only visits to the hospital have been either ordered for a specific purpose, or started with him bleeding heavily or unconscious. This isn't a shinobi hospital, it's a civilian health care center, and he should turn around and leave. If he does, Hermione will see him, unfortunately. There are no good options here.

"Well, Kakashi, where are you from?" The doctor – who goes by a strange name Kakashi can't remember – smiles at him from her chair by the desk. Kakashi looks out the window behind her. The sky is blue today, not a cloud in sight.

"Does that matter?" He asks. At the edge of his vision he catches movement in the doctor's jaw.

"Not really," she says, "but I think it's good to know a little about my patients. To put the medicinal findings to perspective." The original question isn't repeated and Kakashi doesn't offer the information. "How about how long you've been in Iceland, and how long you're planning to stay? That is relevant for me to know."

"Two and a half months. Probably another six months." Glancing over at the doctor when she writes his answers down gives Kakashi little to go on.

She asks about what he does next, here and at home. When he says he's in the army her eyes jump from the paper for a split second, taking him in before she finishes writing the word. Family medical history comes after that, and she doesn't ask for details when he says he doesn't know. He remembers little of his mother, apart from the hushed, tense atmosphere of her hospital room, and at this point there is no one he can ask.

"So, tell me; what can I help you with?" The doctor puts down her pen and adjusts her glasses. She smiles in what must be meant to be an encouraging way. But he can't answer 'Hermione,' and that is all he has. "Your friend, out in the waiting room, was she the one who set the appointment?"

"Yes," Kakashi says. A glance shows the doctor looking at something on her computer. On the wall opposite Kakashi are posters showing skinless human bodies. He tries to remember where all the chakra coils are.

"She said you suffer from – and I quote here – extreme tiredness, possibly due to depression, stress, PTSD, or other mental health issues. Does that sound about right?" Kakashi shrugs. The first part is not wrong. He tries to ignore the rest. The doctor adjusts her chair and faces him more directly. "Kakashi," she says, "I can't help you if you don't tell me what you need help with." She doesn't rant and swear like Tsunade, doesn't come off caring the way Sakura does. She is a nameless, faceless healer halfway across the world.

"I am tired," he admits, eyes still on the poster, mind still on where the chakra coils would be.

"Okay," she says, "in which way?"

With a myriad of questions, most of them requiring only a yes or no answer, the doctor coaxes it out of him: The exhaustion, the way he can't fall asleep some evening and can't stay awake some days, the unresponsiveness in his body, the fever he had last week, the way he sometimes looses track of the conversations he's participating in. Kakashi's speech is chopped up, most answers either monosyllabic or only a few words. Maybe that's why his vocal cords cramp up and ache.

"Is every day the same or does it vary?" Kakashi looks from the poster to the doctor's notebook, wishing he could understand what's written there. He wouldn't be here if the weariness of last week had followed him into this one. This conversation is exhausting enough as it is.

"It varies," he says. The tightness is spreading down his throat, affecting his chest.

"Okay," the doctor says. It's been her reaction to everything so far. "I'd like you to fill this one out next." She puts a paper and a pen down in front of Kakashi.

.oOo.

A piece of surgical tape pulls uncomfortably at the skin in the crook of Kakashi's arm as he rejoins Hermione in the waiting room. The blood samples a nurse took from him after the doctor finished will take several days to analyze, and the doctor will call with the results. Hopefully he'll never see this place again.

"All done?" Hermione asks, stowing the knitting away. Wisps of unruly hair are escaping the bun on the top of her head. _She thinks he's mentally ill_, he remembers. That's what she said when she called to set the appointment. She thinks this is happening to him because he can't control his own mind.

"Yep," Kakashi says and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He tries a deep breath to try and force the pressure off his ribcage. Hermione moves relatively normal now, but the care for her knee is there if one knows where to look.

"How did it go?" Hermione asks once the door swings shut behind them. "If you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm a bit tired of answering question, to be honest." He means for it to come out as a joke, he really does, but his voice goes flat in the wrong way. Hermione glances at him carefully. Like she thinks he's losing it.

"Alright," Hermione says, "how about," she cuts herself off, "no, that's a question." She stops with a sigh and turns to him, effectively forcing him to do the same. The sunshine has a bit of warmth to it, and early promise of spring. "Unless you object I'm taking you to this café I know. I only had time for half a breakfast, and you haven't eaten, and they make great pie." Hermione's shoulders shift in the silence, the details of the motion lost in her jacket.

It's the perfect opportunity to distance himself from her. Just ask her to drive him home instead, and then never talk to her again, but Kakashi doesn't want to risk an outright fight. He doesn't have the energy for one at the moment. Besides, he is hungry. He can get through this, and once he'll get home he can avoid her peacefully. Kakashi is fully functional, tiredness or not, and he doesn't need people in his life who thinks otherwise.

"Show me the way," he says and folds his eyes to a smile.

.oOo.

"You are not his mother," Hermione's mum had said when Hermione told her about taking Kakashi to the doctor. It's true, Hermione is not, but she likes to think she's his friend. Friends are there for one another. "You need to stop sacrificing yourself for others. You care _too much_." It's been said so many times Hermione had known it was coming a good minute before the words were spoken. It's also true. Probably. People have taken advantage of her again and again. Even so, Hermione refuses to see a world where me is put before we and caring comes with a prerequisite of getting more out of it for yourself.

Hermione has spent enough time with Kakashi by now to have a framework for how to read him. She knows which tone he uses when he jokes, how to tell from the shape of his chin under the mask if a smile reaches his lips, how he stills when he freaks out. She knows to tell his disinterested absences from his tired ones. But as they eat their pies, she has no idea what to make of him.

Kakashi can be distant in his laid-back way, but as they make small talk over the scruffy hardwood table of the café he is actively distant. More than that even, Hermione realizes; he's being passive aggressive. And passive aggressiveness is probably on the top ten of Hermione's most hated things, right along things like bigotry, wars, and alternative facts.

Finishing up her food Hermione folds her napkin up and throws it on her plate. A sigh escapes her. "Let's get out of here," she says. The whole thing is putting her in a bad mood.

The walk back to the car is done in silence.

Leaving the car key unturned in the ignition Hermione leans her head back and looks at the beige fabric on the ceiling above her. She doesn't know who she's angrier with: Kakashi for being infantile, or herself for being lousy enough to keep ending up in situations like this. Letting her head fall to the right she watches Kakashi watch the windshield.

"I was going to suggest a road trip to Goðafoss since it's only half an hour from here, but since I'm not allowed to ask questions I guess we're going home, huh?" Resorting to passive aggressiveness of her own might not be the best way to deal with this situation, but Hermione is hurt, and angry, and doesn't feel like being reasonable.

"Whichever you want," Kakashi tells the dashboard.

"What I _want_," Hermione says, losing the passive dimension of her annoyance, "is for you to tell me what is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong." Kakashi glances at her, his composure stony calm, "except you are yelling at me."

"Really?" Hermione makes a great effort to maintain speaking volume. "Really? Then what are you doing? Because the way I see it you're either punishing me for something I didn't to, which is unfair. Or, you're angry about something I did do, without giving me the chance to either explain or apologize, which is also unfair. So, if you can quit being a baby about it and tell me what's going on, that'd be great." Hermione crosses her arms but refuse to break eye contact. When fighting with a dog, whoever looks away first loses.

Kakashi unbuckles his seatbelt and turns away. Hermione feels victorious until she realizes he's opening the door and stepping out. "What are you doing?" She asks, the edges sharp against her tongue.

"I'll walk home," Kakashi says, as if it's a perfectly normal thing to do and Hermione's not in the middle of a fight with him. He closes the door before Hermione can remind him it's a 25-kilometer walk, but it's his own damn fault anyway.

It's tempting to scream or hit the steering wheel, like they do in the movies, but Hermione sits quietly and watches Kakashi walk away in the rearview mirror. Once he's out of sight the impulse has gone away.

This is not good. No. This is fucked up. Beyond all reason. Hermione breaths, slowly, in and out. Tries to tell herself the pain in her abdomen is righteous indignation. It's unfair, Kakashi behaving like an ass and then acting all innocent about it, walking away with his honor intact while anxiety grows in Hermione like a weed.

Okay. She needs a plan. Nothing can be done about what has already happened, but if she can come up with a way to fix it she'll be fine again. Kakashi can get some time to walk it off, half an hour maybe, and then she'll catch up with him and apologize. It will be fine. Just breath. 23 minutes she tells herself; when the clock hits a quarter past she can go make it right. She has until then to plan what to say and get herself under control. There will be no screaming on her part, and no crying. She can do this.

Hermione's hands are sticky against the steering wheel as she starts the car. Her thoughts feel like a herd of pixies, wrecking general havoc inside her head. She drives slowly while she's in town, forcing her mind to focus enough to not run red lights and make sure there are no pedestrians at the crossings. It's not until she hits fifty kilometer an hour that she realizes she's still in the second gear.

The regular houses have given away to farms when she catches up with Kakashi. Like ever, he's got his hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like he's on a relaxed stroll down the road. Hermione's mouth dries up. According to plan she drives past him, stops at the side, turns on the hazard lights, and steps out. She walks back to meet him.

"I'm sorry." The wind is in her back as Hermione stops, certain she's close enough for Kakashi to hear. "Okay? I'm sorry. For yelling." She's not sorry for calling him out on his behavior after all. Kakashi hasn't acknowledged Hermione's presence in any way, and he's almost at her side now. With her knee she won't be able to keep up with him if he passes. "But please," Hermione continues, "don't do this to me."

She feels like crying _and_ screaming, but she promised herself she'd do neither. Closing her fist, she burrows the nails into her palm and focus on the pain there instead of in her chest. Her other hand reaches out to catch Kakashi's arm before he walks away. He stops and turns to her, raising his eyebrows in question, like she's a stranger asking for directions.

"Don't _do_ this to me," Hermione repeats. "It's not fair, I've been trying so hard to be your friend, you can't just," she shakes her head and bites her lip. She's been working on not being herself, she thought she was making progress, and now here they are. "Just tell me what I did!" The words rip from her in a tone too close to desperation, but she cannot take them back. Will not. If anything, Kakashi owes her this.

"You did nothing," Kakashi tells her. It feels as physical as a punch to the diaphragm.

"Yeah?" Hermione has tears in her eyes and she can't tell if they're from anger or pain. She snatches her hand back from the contact with Kakashi. "Because if I haven't done anything wrong, I guess I must _be_ wrong. And I'm so goddamn tired of feeling like that."

Hermione keeps her back straight and her head high as she walks away.

.oOo.

Kakashi stands on the empty road with sun in his hair and ice in his veins. Hermione and the car are gone. He'd meant to create distance between them, but not like this. This aches deep inside him in a nauseating way.

His fingers move undirected to the arm where Hermione was holding him, only minutes earlier, brushing over the fabric of his jacket. Closing his eyes Kakashi tries to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in his chest.

He starts walking.

* * *

AN: Cliffhanger, I know. Sorry! Like I said, the next chapter will be up shortly. In the meantime; let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Kakashi goes through the motions. He's good at that. The doctor calls him Tuesday afternoon like agreed. "There are no anomalies in your tests," she says, "so I would like to book you an appointment with our therapist for an evaluation. You are not an Icelandic citizen, however, and I don't know what your insurance cover?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that," Kakashi says and hangs up. Then he runs until his legs no longer carries his weight. He feels nothing but the physical sensations of an overworked body.

Losing people is something Kakashi knows how to do. Hermione leaves a hole in him, but there's enough of them already that it doesn't matter much. What he can't handle is the guilt that comes with some of the empty spaces. Hermione's is in the shape of her out on that road, calling him a friend even as he let everything fall apart, begging him to tell her what she did wrong. She walks beside him the way Obito and Rin did, way back, with the difference that Hermione is alive. This doesn't need to be permanent.

Out on that road Kakashi wanted to call her back, to fix what he had broken in her, but he had no idea how. He's not sure he has the words now either, nor if he fully understands what happened. Yet a week has passed, and what he hasn't grasped by now will likely remain shrouded. At least that's what he tells himself as he knocks on Hermione's door, the book she borrowed him in a firm grip.

"Oh, it's you," Hermione says when she opens. She holds onto the door with one hand and the doorpost with the other, effectively blocking the entrance to the house. "What do you want?" It would be easier if she was outright hostile, but she's not. Kakashi wonders if his voice usually sounds as flat as hers does now.

"I have your book," he tells her, and holds it out.

"And what?" Hermione asks, but she takes the book. "You figured since merely showing up was enough last time, it'd do the trick now?"

"I'm sorry," Kakashi says, and he means it, wishes he knew how to say it in the right way. Hurting her was never part of the plan, only to get distance.

"Yeah. You'll have to do better than that." Hermione watches Kakashi as he searches for what to say. He did think about this, knew what to tell her until a few seconds ago. It's all gone now. "I thought so," Hermione says and closes the door. Kakashi allows himself to sink down on the porch bench. This is not how he imagined this going.

Preparing for a mission or a battle; Kakashi knows how to do. He can assess the strength and weaknesses of his teammates and assign positions accordingly, plan attacks or ambushes, evaluate opponents, keep track of the terrain, and account for contingencies. He can do it simultaneously, and on the fly. It helps little now. This is also a problem that needs analyzing, but his usual strategies don't apply, and he can't predict what will happen.

Kakashi tries anyway. He maps out the things he's supposed to say, strings them together and tries to account for the places where probability branches out in different scenarios. The paths aren't as clear as they should be. The signs he tries to make to show the way turns out fuzzy. He'll get lost trying to follow this.

The front door opens eventually, Hermione stepping out on the wooden terrace with heavy boots. She freezes for a full second. "Still here?" The question is cautious, but she closes the door. "Why?"

Kakashi is leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees in a failing attempt to lessen the chill of the wind. Hermione, when she sits on the other end of the bench, is the complete opposite; back resting against the wooden panel behind them and legs stretched out. She crosses her arms over her chest. "I…" Kakashi hesitates, not sure what to say. _Be honest_, Hermione told him that night two weeks ago, but it's harder than it sounds. Honesty requires words. "I'm trying to figure out how fix it," he manages, throat fighting against him.

"I bet you are." By the sound Hermione is turned to Kakashi, but he doesn't look to confirm. He doesn't want to know what expression goes with a voice that neutral. "What did you think would happen? You would knock on my door, and I'd read what I wanted to hear into your silences, and everything would go back to normal?"

"I…" Kakashi's jaw works around sounds that never comes out. She's not wrong, and he knows she can tell. She's not right either. He doesn't care for normal, he wants out, but he needs her to be fine at the end of it.

"Yeah," Hermione says, still horribly neutral, "I've realized I'm not doing that anymore."

This is it then, Kakashi thinks. He's known as much, are here to be able to tell himself he tried more than anything else, but it's still surprisingly painful. "Why?" He manages, low and rough, but Hermione usually answers questions and he tries not to repeat mistakes.

"Because it's hurting me," she says. There's feeling in her voice now, but Kakashi can't tell which one. He's good at hurting people. "Because after every one of those silences a piece of me is left wondering if they really meant what I ascribed them."

_Because if I haven't done anything wrong, I guess I must _be_ wrong_, Hermione said out on that road. _And I'm so goddamn tired of feeling like that._ It echoes in Kakashi's head now, crashes against what Hermione said seconds ago. His chest constricts until he feels like the world is fading away. And he's doing it again, isn't he? Instead of easing her pain he is adding to it, reopening wounds that should have begun to heal in his absence.

"Wait," he says when Hermione makes a move to stand. "I just…" He forces a breath down, then another. Facing the reality of Obito being alive had felt like this, simultaneously paralyzing and frantic, but he'd managed to get it together enough to keep fighting then. He can do the same now.

"Five things you can see," Hermione says. Kakashi has no idea when she ended up crouched in front of him.

"You're not the problem," Kakashi says. That's what matters here; she needs to know that. "I'll survive. I'll be fine…" Kakashi forces his throat to swallow and sucks in another breath. Hermione wears a dirty set of working clothes and rubber boots, but he doesn't let his eyes travel high enough to see her face. "You need to be okay," he says. What he means is _someone_; someone who's been tangled up with him needs to be okay.

"Thanks, I guess," Hermione says, "we'll get back to that. But Kakashi? Five things you can see."

He can see Obito, if he closes his eyes, and Rin, her chest a gaping hole around his outstretched arm. That's not what Hermione's asking for. "Legs," Kakashi answers, "feet, shoes, porch." He wants to finish with _you_ but can't say that out loud. "Arms," he picks instead.

"Good, four things you can touch."

When they get to three things Kakashi can hear (he omits his racing heartbeat, but: wind, his voice, cows) he realizes Hermione's supposed to be working. "I know," she says, "but we're not done here, are we?"

They could be, Kakashi thinks, but he knows enough to not say it out loud. "What do you want me to do?" He asks instead, because he wants to make her all right but cannot think with this hand around his throat and this weight on his chest and so many dead and injured right behind his eyelids. Hermione sighs.

"I want you to answer the question that mattered." She sounds tired. Kakashi risks a quick glance and catches wrinkles on her forehead and her lower lip pulled between her teeth. It doesn't help him figure out what she means. "But like you said;" Hermione continues, "I'm supposed to be working. I'll be back in a couple of hours. I'm sure you can figure it out."

Hermione rests her hand against Kakashi's arm as she stands, much in the same way she did when she held him back a week ago. The ache of her turning around and walking away is equally familiar. But it gives him a clue, something to let his brain process while he forces his body into submission long enough to feed the sheep. Maybe he can still fix what he did to her.

.oOo.

Hermione wonders if she's being unreasonable, but she doesn't think she is. Asking her mother is tempting, even after withstanding it for a week, but she's not up for an "I told you so." There was a time when she'd call Ginny with things like this, and they're still friends, but not like they were. Not since Hermione broke up with Ron.

She wants to forgive Kakashi, she really does, but she can't. Not without getting _something_. There's a pattern emerging here, she's realized, and one that'll end badly for her. Kakashi might be sick, and he might be horrible at dealing with emotions, but she can't take responsibility for that. She can't keep making his apologies for him and assign his silences some deeper meaning they might not have. For all she knows he might not even like her.

Kakashi left, she saw it through one of the grubby cowshed windows, so she doesn't expect for him to once again be outside her door when she comes back from milking. She lets him inside without speaking, starts on hot cocoa for them both, and waits. The balls in his court.

"If I'm not mistaken," Kakashi says once they're seated at the kitchen table, "you're angry with me for not answering the question of what you did last time?" He speaks carefully, almost distantly, but it is a genuine question.

"Are we doing this?" Hermione asks instead of answering. Kakashi looks up from his cup and meets her eyes. "Like properly, full disclosure, both ways, doing it? Because otherwise I'm not sure there's a point starting." Nothing might come out of this, but she owes him a chance if he's willing to try. And if this turns out to be their end, they should at least clear the air first.

She hopes it's not the end.

Kakashi takes a breath Hermione is certain he fights for. The dark brown of his eyes means she almost misses how his pupils widen, but his hand does not shake when he moves them down from the table. A tiny movement in his chin never translates to sound, but Kakashi closes his eyes and nods. It's impossible not to wonder if she is cruel to put him through this, but it's cruel either way. There are no wins in this scenario.

"To answer your question," Hermione says, "it's yes and no." Kakashi has turned back to stare at his mug but there is confusion painted in the angles of his eyebrows. "The passive aggressiveness made me angry," she explains, "but that's not the problem now, I'm not _angry_ now." In fact, she thinks, anger was only ever the outer layer.

"So, what are you now?" Kakashi has a version of that look he has sometimes, like she's a puzzle he's trying to solve. She's not sure how to feel about that, but she has decided to give them this last chance, full disclosure, and she'll stick with it.

"Hurt," Hermione starts, untangling the mess inside her. The cocoa is still too hot to drink, but she picks at the cup with the hand not wrapped across her abdomen. "Dejected, indignant, inadequate. Flawed." She leaves out lonely, it has nothing to do with this, she's been lonely since well before meeting Kakashi. "You?" She asks before Kakashi can say something. Or worse; nothing.

Several heavy moments pass by before Kakashi answers. "Terrified," he says, and his tone has a hoarseness to it that makes Hermione wonder if his throat is as unresponsive as hers. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he continues after a pause.

"I know," Hermione says, "I get it, I just…" she pulls a leg up on the chair and balances the mug on her knee. The smell of chocolate and spices sink into her, but the liquid burns her lips. "I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not, and I…" She stops herself and takes a breath, she's not making sense. "Look, you're sick, I get that. It's unfair of me to hold you to regular standards, and I thought I was fine with that, but it turns out I'm not."

"What I'm trying to say," Hermione continues, "is that even if I _think_ you are silent or distant because you're freaking out, I'll keep _feeling_ it's because you dislike me. And I'm not strong enough to stop it. And then you went and upped it with passive aggressiveness, which made me question everything I thought, and it got a thousand times worse. I know I'm obnoxious and difficult and whatever. I don't need reminding."

Sometimes, Hermione thinks, it's worse not to cry. She feels like she might break in half, but not a single tear forms in her eyes as she waits for Kakashi to stand up and leave. They are all waiting in her tear ducts, however, and she knows there'll be no stopping once he's gone. "You don't have to," she starts.

"No," Kakashi cuts in. "I obviously do. Just. Just give me a minute." Despite everything, or maybe because of it, Hermione wants to go around the table to him. She doesn't. Not yet. Watches him fold in on himself instead, hands behind his neck, and take slow measured breaths. At least fifty seconds remain of his minute.

Before the time is up Kakashi looks up at the empty air between them. "I don't understand," he says carefully, "what I did to make you see yourself like that to begin with?"

Hermione can feel her lips tugging upwards, but it's not a smile, the sentiment is not there. "Yeah," she huffs, "you didn't really do anything. It's been an established fact for quite some time."

"By whom?" The question makes Hermione falter. She turns away, watches the whipping branches of the low hedge. The days are getting longer, leaving over an hour of daylight after the work is done.

"Everyone," she admits before the silence leaves room for too many thoughts. "My parents, my friends, my ex, me."

"I notice I'm not on that list," Kakashi's tone holds a hint of dryness. That must be a step up.

"Yet," Hermione adds around the lump in her throat. She looks at the ceiling over the window to keep the burning in her eyes from spilling over. "I've been censoring, obviously."

"Okay," Kakashi says. There's an edge to it that makes Hermione turn to him. His brows are drawn together over hard eyes and his fingertips press against the table. "So, I'm supposed to do _this_ while you're allowed to censor?" It sounds unfair, Hermione can hear that, but…

"You don't understand," she swipes desperately at a tear escaping down her chin, "who I am make people _leave_."

"Be aware," Kakashi says, voice like ice, "you know very little of me or what I _understand_, as you put it." Hermione shivers. Her tears dry up. She believed the sensation of a room chilling with someone's anger was a saying, but apparently, it's not. Compared to this, she got away easy with the passive aggressiveness. Given a choice, she still prefers this.

"I'm sorry. You're right." She means it. With his easygoing attitude and nonchalant demeanor, he comes off as one of the cool kids, and she's assumed a lot of things given that. Like a lot of shallow, stylish friends.

The revelation shocks Hermione out of her own mind for a moment, and she watches the pieces of Kakashi float freely: The fact that he's freaked out the worst when she's been hating herself, the times _she's_ been the one to walk away. They fall into a new understanding.

"It was unfair of me," Hermione tells Kakashi. He closes his eyes and the cold feeling begins to dissipate. "I'm scared, though, that you'll regret it and politely and wait for the day you won't ever have to see me again." That's the worst part of it all, the nagging voice in the back of her mind whenever she spends time with someone these days, telling her they are either doing it to be nice or because she's useful. Not because they enjoy it.

"Haven't we had this conversation before?" Kakashi asks and puts his hands down in his knee, leaving Hermione nothing to read. She tries to remember if they have but comes up blank. "I told you that you think too highly of people," Kakashi says in answer to her confusion, "and that you have no chance of restraining me."

"I…" Hermione starts crying again. Without warning tears are running down her cheeks, tickling her where they cling to her lower jaw before falling. The tears blur Kakashi's face and Hermione's mind is buzzing. "Don't freak out," she says. It seems important. "I'm not sad, I just…" Only, she doesn't know what she is.

She reaches for the paper towels and blows her nose. Crying is never very lady-like when she does it. "Will you tell me?" She asks, taking control of her vocal cords. "When I get too much and you want to leave, will you at least tell me what it was I did? I prefer knowing."

The pause before Kakashi answers lasts forever. Hermione's chest ties itself in new knots, replacing the ones just dissolved. "I'll try," he finally says. Nothing more can be demanded, really. It's an honest answer, and Hermione wishing for more is unreasonable.

"Thank you," Hermione says. Because there is nothing else she can say.

They sit in silence as the tears peter out and their salty residue begin to itch. The cocoa has gone tepid, the timing for drinking it missed, but Hermione downs it anyway. When her mug is empty she stands to rinse it out and splash cold water on her face. The hollowness that always hits her after crying sits heavy behind her sternum and she longs for her mother; the only one reliable to give her hugs these days. Instead she's got Kakashi's eyes burning against her back.

Hermione smells like cow, and her pants are getting downright crusty. There was laundry planned for tonight, but it will have to wait. "If I go change clothes," Hermione asks, "will you still be here when I come back?" She is running dry on both physical and emotional energy, and the couch with a blanket sound like a dream. A break from this, if only for a few minutes, doesn't sound horrible either.

Kakashi nods, and Hermione slips away to the bathroom.

.oOo.

With Hermione gone Kakashi places his elbows on the table, rests his forehead on his palms, and breaths. His body feels sluggish and achy, like he's exhausted his chakra the way he did vanishing Deidara's explosion with Kamui. Kakashi had been forced to let Gai carry him home after that. The man could still walk then, move on his own, come up with stupid challenges and stupider punishments for himself if he failed. He hadn't been the statue Kakashi left in a hospital bed going here. This time, Kakashi will need to figure out a way to get to his feet on his own.

Shinobi doesn't show emotion. Kakashi failed at that, let the anger bleed through, and righteous or not he should have kept it in check. Emotions impair the judgement and makes you vulnerable to attack, and it's probably unhealthy to think of this as a fight, but how can he _not_?

The anger had felt amazing at the time, cleansing and invigorating, making him forget his tight chest and fuzzy mind. Now, it makes him weary and cold, twice as aware of his current state. Maybe it's a jutsu that is slowly paralyzing him, making him fight to breathe and move and think. It could be slowing him down, little by little, and that's why he can't imagine standing up right now. The doctor found nothing wrong, but his body hasn't worked right all day, so the doctor must have missed whatever this is. That speaks for a jutsu.

It's not ideal; being left alone with his thoughts spinning like they are and his mind screaming at his exhausted body to get up and move. On the other hand, without Hermione here there are no questions to answer, no information to take in. No distractions, but no pressure either. There's only one question left, the same one he came here to answer, and then he can leave. He'll have given her what she needs, as far as he gets it, and he can go without guilt.

.oOo.

Kakashi is still in his chair when Hermione reenters the kitchen, fingers entwined in his hair and head bowed forward, effectively hiding his face. The kitchen is turning grey as the light wane and she turns on the lamp in the kitchen hood. Pinpricks of beginning rain are splattered over the window. Hermione is about to suggest moving to the couch when Kakashi speaks.

"The answer to the question," he says, voice monotone, "is that you think I'm insane. The doctor told me." Hermione blinks, trying to make sense of what's being said. Kakashi turns his head to the side enough to look at her. "That's why I left," he continues, "not because of any of those other things, but because I won't be around people thinking I'm unstable and making things up."

"I… What?" Hermione tries to wrap her mind around what's being said but it won't be done. "What are you even talking about?" She remains standing by the counter, staring at Kakashi and wondering what alternate universe she's just been transported to.

"You said; when I leave, you want to know why, and I told you I'd try, and I'm _trying_. Is it enough? Will you be okay if I go now?" He sounds tired mostly, nothing else. He's not breaking down, he's not angry, he's not joking. Hermione tries to remember their conversation. She believed they were making progress, that it'd be okay, and now this. Their talk out on the porch springs to mind, she'd been distracted at the time, sure that Kakashi had a panic attack, but he said something about _him_ surviving, and it was important _Hermione_ was okay.

"No," she says, before he can get up. "No, this is crazy. Why would you think that? I've never said you're insane, or, or," she ransacks her memory for what he told her, "unstable, or any of those things. If the doctor told you that, she lied." Hermione can't tell if the silence in her brain comes from thinking nothing at all or everything at once.

"So, I'm crazy for saying you think I'm insane?" Kakashi sits up, and there's an undercurrent to his weariness now. Hermione can see how that might not have been the best thing for her to blurt out.

"No, that's not," she cuts herself off, sighs, tries to gather her thoughts, "just tell me, what did the doctor say? Exactly?"

"You think I'm mentally ill."

"Yes," Hermione says. They have established that a long time ago, haven't they? And this doesn't seem like the time to get into the illness or injury discussion. "What does that," she freezes. For what must be several seconds, she stares blindly at Kakashi who is suspiciously blank. "Kakashi," she speaks slowly, meticulously, "what would you say mental illness is?"

In the silence, a crease appears between Kakashi's eyebrows, his jaw moves under his mask, but stills again. "Being out of your mind," he says in the end, "not functioning, losing control…" He tapers off. Hermione realizes she's pressing her eyelids together with enough force to make them quiver.

Okay. Shit. Keep calm. Breath in, through nose, out again. Open eyes. Don't scream. He doesn't know any better. "So," Hermione says, "take me for example: I've done burn-out, PTSD and more than one depression. I'm anxious by nature. For a few days every month my world falls apart due to PMS. I'd say I'm well acquainted with mental health issues. Am I out of my mind? Insane? Should I be locked away?" She doesn't leave Kakashi room to answer.

"Or worse: Am I making it all up? Wishing myself sick? Trying to get attention? Avoiding responsibility?" Hermione sucks in a breath. "Am I _just not strong enough_?" The words claw in her chest and scratch her throat coming out. She's heard these things enough, asked them of herself too many times, for them not to hurt, even if she knows better than to listen.

"Make no mistake," she finishes, "when I say I think you might suffer from mental illness; I am not judging you, I'm trying to help."

Kakashi hasn't left, and that must mean something, Hermione thinks in the silence after her outburst. She's not sure what. "All my symptoms are physical," Kakashi says with a blank face and unfocused eyes. Hermione sighs and scrubs her face.

"Are they?" She asks.

The yes forming in Kakashi's mouth would be less obvious printed on his forehead, but so is his failing to vocalize it. "The depression test said I'm fine," he says instead. She didn't know the doctor gave him one of those, and refrains from getting into a harangue about what she think about some of them.

"Okay," Hermione tells him instead, focusing on what's important, "you are fine. But are you _happy_?" She's not sure Kakashi's hearing her anymore, he looks shut down. "Do you ever sit up on the mountainside and marvel at the beauty of the landscape?" Hermione asks. "Do you look forward to things? Smile when no one's watching? Laugh until you cry?"

"What if I'm not that kind of person." It's phrased like a question, but the tone isn't right. Hermione's stomach becomes a painful mass.

"What if you are? What if you've just been sick for long enough that this is your normal now?" Hermione asks. Talking about this is harrowing, bringing up ghosts of feelings Hermione wants to be done with. She knows too well how depression sneaks up on you, dulling life down so gradually it's hard to notice. In a way, she's asking herself the same things she's asking Kakashi.

It might be confirmation bias, but the more Hermione thinks about it the more convinced she gets. She might not have known Kakashi for very long, has no baseline for him, but the signs are all there. It's more a question of whether the depression is its own problem or if it's caused by something else. There's also the issue of Kakashi being a stubborn idiot with a medieval view of mental health. And the issue of Hermione possibly projecting and seeing things that's not there. And the fact that she cares too much and needs to watch out so she doesn't sacrifice herself. And okay, there's _a lot_ of issues, but she's too far out to cut the ties now. It'll only make her obsess even worse. The isolation loneliness will come back as well, and she can do without that.

"I can't do this," Kakashi says. The words are fuzzy, and Hermione wonders if he's speaking to her at all. "I need to go," he continues, clearer. He sounds too calm, no signs of whatever's going on leaking to the surface.

"Okay," Hermione tells him as he stands. She's already pushed more than enough for one day, and she's not sure she dares to crack this empty veneer even if she could. "Will you come back?" It's a terrifying question to ask, but she needs to know the answer.

There is none. Kakashi moves towards the hallway, Hermione giving him a few seconds head start to avoid crowding him. He is on the bench tying his shoes as Hermione joins him, but he freezes halfway through the second one. The patter of rain can be heard from outside.

"It's too early," he says, "they'll be awake. I can't… What do I tell them?" There are cracks in his voice at the end, but the quick glance he gives Hermione is nothing but exhausted.

"I don't know," Hermione says before she crosses the room. The seat is too small to hold them both, so she crouches in front of him for the second time that day. Kakashi's arms are stiff under her hands as she places them by his elbows and from this angle she can see him looking between the points of contact. He makes no move to dislodge her.

"Maybe," she thinks out loud, "you don't have to say anything? There's an unused master bedroom upstairs, huge bed, door to close, and I could drive you back later tonight or tomorrow before work?" Kakashi lifts his head to meet her eyes, but nothing can be read from it on her end. Hermione tries to wait him out, she really does, but she's not the best with silences. "If you want to hang out, we could just watch a movie or something. You wouldn't have to, but…" She can't say out loud that she wouldn't mind the company, doesn't trust him _not_ to stay for her if she does. It's been a long day, and Hermione knows the anxiety will hit like a sledgehammer once Kakashi leaves and she starts analyzing every word she spoke and all the ones she didn't.

The small nod brings a smile to Hermione's face. "Yeah?" she says, "okay. I'm starving so I'm having something to eat in front of a movie."

Kakashi doesn't speak much as he joins her, and he might be silent and empty-looking, but he is present. That's something. Hermione falls into her usual pattern of random monologued small-talk, and nothing about it is normal but it's okay. It's more than okay. And if Hermione forgets to connect the laptop to the tv – effectively forcing them to sit right next to each other on the couch, watching Legally Blonde on the tiny computer screen – well, that's a coincidence. It has nothing to do with the fact that she wants confirmation Kakashi is still around, despite all the things disclosed over the last hours.

There are still things they need to talk about, but if today isn't the end there's no hurry.

.oOo.

Kakashi thought staying would only be marginally less bad than facing Þorir and Sunna, but it turns out he's wrong. It feels surprisingly comfortable, listening to Hermione's endless chatter before sinking into the couch. He's missed this; the easy moments with her.

His mind is still doing the thing where it feels completely empty while going a hundred miles per hour. Forcing a sandwich down is more a matter of will and necessity than anything else, every bite growing in his mouth and exhausting to chew. He leans back afterwards, the movie nothing but blurry shapes across the screen and a plot he lacks the energy to understand. Sleeping is out, which is unfair. How can he be unbelievably tired with his eyes open, only to be fully awake as soon as he closes them? He lets himself drift instead, knowing he has a lot he should process but unable to control his mind enough to do so.

The movie must end at some point because Hermione is asking him whether he wants her to drive him home now or take the bedroom here. Decisions sound impossible, however, and he keeps his eyes closed and his breathing even.

She pads away over the floor, returning an unknown amount of time later. A heavy blanket is draped over Kakashi, tucked in over his shoulder, and something soft lands on the couch. "I'm leaving a pillow on your right side, and you can wake me if you need anything," Hermione says softly. "Good night." A hand lands on the blanket over his shoulder, trailing along the arm to the elbow before disappearing. Kakashi suppress a twitch. It's strange, being touched for no reason. Neither good nor bad, just _odd_.

Hermione disappears again and doesn't come back. Kakashi knows he won't disturb her. He'll rest here for a couple of hours, until he feels like he can walk, and then head back to Heimstaðir before Hermione wakes.


	13. Chapter 13

"Everything good with you and Kakashi?" Kristín asks Hermione as they sweep the cow-stalls. Hermione pauses, hanging on her broomstick. Kristín is terrible at feigning innocence and more curious than Hermione's mother.

"Yes," Hermione says, dragging the word out. A lot was sorted out yesterday, and she's happy about that, but there's new issues to darken the horizon. She'd thought she lost Kakashi; a reasonable and self-created loss, sure, but a loss none the less. Then she hadn't. Then she lost him again. Now she's in limbo, not sure of anything, but she can't say that. "Why?" she asks instead.

"Oh, I just saw him outside your place yesterday after milking, and heard he got home late. Or should I say early?" The grin on Kristín's face is downright wicked and she wiggles her eyebrows.

Blood rushes to Hermione's face and she blinks at the implication. "Er," she says, panicking, "is that a problem?" What she means is: _No, it wasn't like that. At all_. But saying that will lead to incredibly complicated questions. Kristín laughs at her.

"No, no," Kristín says, "not at all. I'm just glad you two worked out whatever spat had Kakashi _walking_ home from town last week."

Groaning, Hermione rests her forehead on her hands atop the broomstick. "How do you even know these things?" She says, unsure if she should laugh or run away and never look Kristín in the eyes again. It's so much better to be the other part in these kinds of conversations.

"I talk to Sunna," Kristín says, "and I might be 50 plus and married, but I've been twenty-something and single too you know. It's nothing to be embarrassed about." Hermione has the dreadful insight that this conversation will most likely also be shared with Sunna. It might get back to Kakashi. She never confirmed anything though, it's not her fault Kristín interprets it this way.

"Just make sure he treats you right," Kristín continues on a warmer, more serious note, "and remember he'll go back to the other side of the globe come fall." Sometimes Kristín reminds Hermione of her mum.

"You don't have to worry," Hermione says, glancing up at Kristín. The years of outdoor work is visible in her face. "It's not like that." She means for it to be simple reassurance but realizes when hearing the words, it can be taken differently. If her cheeks aren't beet red now they'll never be. "That wasn't what I…"

Kristín laughs and waves her off. "Of course it wasn't," she says, obviously not meaning a word. Hermione thinks she'll only dig herself deeper down if she argues. "Now, I'm gonna let you get back to work before you perish."

"Please do," Hermione manages, but she's laughing as well. This is incredibly awkward and will probably only get worse from here on, what else is there to do but laugh?

.oOo.

Kakashi wants to spend his Saturday like he did his Friday; curled up on his bed. Unfortunately, he can't. Sunna and Þorir are home, and he can't disappear behind a closed door all day, nor can he let them see him like that. He feels beat, literally, like he's done taijutsu rounds against Gai and then gone out drinking all night. Only he doesn't really drink much, and Gai won't be doing anymore taijutsu.

Sitting in his armchair facing the window with a book in hand is okay, for a while. He keeps wondering, however, how long it'll be before someone pops their head in and asks him to join them for something. Like lunch. Kakashi can't manage lunch. It's at least half an hour of hanging around the kitchen where he needs to be helpful, and social, and right-there-with-them, and he has no idea how to pull that off without something giving him away.

There's Hermione. He keeps coming back to her, and to the questions she asked. Questions he couldn't process then but can't stop thinking about now. Yet, if he were to show up on her doorstep he'd have to explain himself. So, no.

Outside, the cloud coverage is breaking up, letting the sun reach down and bring color to the garden. It's at least an excuse to get up, dress warmly, and head outside. He passes Þorir in the kitchen and tells him they can go ahead and eat without him if he's not back in time.

Kakashi's body is aching and cold as he walks the mountainside. The change in pace makes his stride shorter, and he struggles to find new ways over the waterlogged areas. He knows the tracks his feet are following, but can't find the energy to care. Reaching the plateau where he first met Hermione takes time and most of his energy, but he's out of sight from the house and is in no hurry to get back. The whole world looks to be covered by a giant camo net of small clouds moving quickly with the wind, their shadows creating a familiar pattern over the fields.

Sitting down, Kakashi looks at the valley with its eroded mountains and wonder what it's like; marveling at its beauty. He remembers the snow, how its inhospitality made him feel alive, put a smile on his face with no one watching, and wonders if that stolen moment is proof Hermione is right or wrong. Maybe, he could be that kind of person. Maybe, he already is, only lesser.

Hermione joins him, of course. Kakashi is not surprised; she has a weird knack for knowing when he's up here. Expected or not, it's impossible to decide if he wants her company. On one hand, he is tired and achy and cold. On the other, the exact same things. All he wants is to be left alone, but if Kakashi was forced to choose one living, talking person to accompany him it would be Hermione.

"Hi," she says, "mind if I join you?" Kakashi keeps his eyes on the landscape as he shrugs, and she settles on the grass next to him. "Are you angry with me?"

Shaking his head is not a proper answer, Kakashi knows, He's supposed to talk to her. Hermione sighs. "Just tired," he tells her. Glancing to his side he can see the twitch of her lips.

"Did you hear anything from the doctor?" Hermione asks.

"I…" Kakashi means to say he doesn't want to speak about it, he's allowed to, but he stops. No one at home will ever know. If he doesn't face this now, he'll probably always wonder. "She wants me to be evaluated by a therapist." He has to force the words through his throat, but there's something liberating about speaking them out loud. It's been on his mind constantly the last few days.

"What did you say?" Judging by the sound, Hermione is looking at him. Kakashi keeps his eyes on the shifting yellow and grey of the dried grass below them, preferring not to know what Hermione thinks.

"I hung up," he admits. To his surprise Hermione laughs, open and warm. It's impossible not to smile with her.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to," she says, "I just, wow…" In the corner of his eye Kakashi catch the movement of her shaking her head.

"What?" He keeps his tone easy, not able to withstand the chance at lighter conversation. "I think it communicated my feelings perfectly." The joke is at his expense, but it feels good none the less. It's been too long since either of them laughed. Kakashi breaths it in, reminding himself that this is also them, there is more than the difficult stuff.

A shove on his shoulder is Hermione's only answer and Kakashi turns properly to her and raises an eyebrow. "Really?" he says, "resorting to violence?" Her smile makes something loosen in his chest.

"I think it communicated my feelings perfectly," Hermione says. Kakashi topples her over.

They sit next to each other in silence after Hermione yields the fight. The warmth in Kakashi is abating. "Is it okay to get back to the serious stuff for a moment?" Hermione asks after a while. Kakashi feels like the sunshine dims.

"I'm guessing saying no will only postpone the inevitable," Kakashi says. He'll be unable to focus on anything else now anyway.

"Do you know why these things I've been telling you about are called mental disorders?" Hermione asks, taking his non-answer as agreement.

The question is a simple yes or no, but Kakashi shrugs. Last time he shared his view on anything regarding this he upset her.

"It's not about being sick in the head," Hermione says, "it's about the way it affects how you feel and think. Something has unbalanced your hormones – making you low on serotonin or increasing your cortisol levels – and it's _manifesting_ with mental symptoms as well as physical ones." Kakashi glances at Hermione and she meets his eyes evenly. He hears what she's trying to say, but… "No one questions a diabetic's right to be sick, do they?"

Kakashi turns back to face the valley. The clouds are grouping together into steel grey towers promising rain. There were no questions to answer, and he has nothing to say since he knows too little to argue. He reaches for his hitai-ate only to realize he's not wearing it. "Well," he says, lowering his hand, "I'm not stressed, and I'm not sad, so you can drop it." Education is good and all, but if he never speaks about this again he'll be grateful.

The huff is nearly lost to the wind. "Yeah," Hermione says, "for me, depression wasn't being sad. At the most I _wished_ I could cry. I was predominantly tired and horribly numb, not caring about anything and not concerned about that either. There was happy moment, in between, but they never stayed with me."

Closing his eyes Kakashi takes a breath, two, three. He relaxes his hands from the fists they have formed. _Numbness_. Okay. While not a perfect match it is close enough. He can't be mentally ill though. He doesn't _want_ to be mentally ill. Shinobi doesn't show weakness. 'No one questions a diabetic's right to be sick, do they?' Hermione's voice whispers in his head.

"You still with me?" A hand settles on Kakashi's shoulder, the length of a forearm resting against his shoulder blade. He nods. "Good. Now, unless you object, I'm going to book you that appointment, okay?"

Kakashi means to object. He really does. Only, he opens his mouth and no sound comes out. No one will ever know, will they, and at this point he has very little to lose and not much fight left in him. There is no way he'll consent officially, but Kakashi shrugs. Hermione squeezes his shoulder before taking her hand back. It leaves a cold feeling in its place.

"I read this crazy article," Hermione starts, and tells him a long, humorously agitated report on something called flat-earthers. The straightforward subject gradually loosens Kakashi up and has him giving her more of his attention, until he's finding himself part of a conversation again. It's impossible not to wonder what Hermione, with her deep-seated trust in science and logic, would say if she saw him walk up a wall and across a ceiling. Or what would happen if he remodeled the very ground they're sitting on.

"I mean," Hermione says, "how is that an argument; only believing what one can see? They think air is a big conspiracy too? Do they _not_ wash their hands before they're visibly dirty?" Kakashi can't help but smile at her consternation. He has a suspicion that was her intent the whole time.

"I'm just not sure it really matters," Kakashi can't help but argue. Hermione stares at him.

"What?"

"Well," Kakashi says, "the Earth is the Earth, no matter how you look at it. What does it matter if they think it's flat?" Hermione goes blank for a full second. Kakashi would laugh at her if he dared, but he wants to hear her answer.

"I guess it doesn't," she says. He didn't expect her to fold so easily. "In this case. It's just that the same kind of filter bubbles and misinterpreted or false information also leads to stuff like kids not getting vaccinated or cementing racism."

"I can see the problem with those," Kakashi agrees. "Although, I have no clue what a filter bubble is."

The cloud cover is thickening and the wind picking up as Hermione tells Kakashi about social media, and algorithms choosing what to show you, and fake news. She does it with gesturing hands and an urgent intensity, and Kakashi wonders what that kind of passion feels like.

"I guess that's my cue," Hermione says when the first raindrops begin to fall. "It's lunch soon anyway." Kakashi notice the reduced weight in his stomach only in how it is negated by her words. Staying outside in the rain will look strange. He'll have to go back and spend time with the others.

.oOo.

Hermione picks her way back down the mountainside carefully. Her trust in her knee is still shaky, even with the pain gone and the brace to support it, and the rough ground is worse going down than up. Kakashi saunters beside her, hands in pockets, making the terrain look like an airport runway. It's impossible not to envy his grace and entertain the thought of putting in the work to get that way herself. It's a pleasant daydream.

The sleeping-together-thing needs to be brought up within the next few minutes. Kakashi is bound to find out eventually, if he hasn't already, and Hermione's Gryffindor side prefers getting the embarrassment out of the way. It's still a daunting task. Kakashi might be repulsed by the idea of them together, or he might appreciate it, and Hermione doesn't know which is worse. Either way, she'll lose him, because she wants nothing more than friendship and won't stand for being seen as repelling.

Kakashi is a bit weird, stiffer than a rod in a lot of ways, but Hermione likes him far more than she ever thought she would. Despite the rocky start they've had, he knows more about her by now than anyone she can think of. The number of topics redacted by the Statue of Secrecy makes that a bit peculiar, but magic was never what defined her. There are real things she's learnt not to speak about – that even her mother will never know – that she's told Kakashi. Ron had highjacked any conversations coming even close to the topic to the point where Hermione felt like the unreasonable one, but Kakashi didn't do that. He questioned, and listened to the answers, and tried to do right by them, even as he planned to walk away for good.

Life isn't easy, Hermione knows, and nothing will magically get better simply because they've spoken about it. The issues will be around, possibly as long as she is, but naming the beast always makes it less frightening. Actions can be taken once you know what you're dealing with. And Kakashi had _tried_ today, just as she had. She frets now, about the improperness of her laughing or the lecturing she'd done, but the more she thinks about it the more confident she feels that Kakashi's responses were genuine. At least this time.

"So, did you hear the new gossip?" Hermione asks before they get far enough that someone in the house might catch their expressions. The rain had remained being random drops carried by the wind. One of them hits the side of her face like a needle.

"I don't care much for gossip." The disinterest implies Hermione pulled of the casual tone she was aiming for. He also obviously doesn't know yet.

"It's about us." Any tinge on Hermione's cheeks can be attributed to the weather and the walking, she tells herself. She feels slightly nauseous. A glance shows Kakashi raising an eyebrow, but to keep moving Hermione needs to watch were she puts her feet. "They think we're sleeping together."

"And where would they get that idea?" Kakashi's voice is frustratingly even, leaving nothing for Hermione to read. She steels herself, stops, and turns to him.

"Well," she says, "apparently you're not very sneaky when you come home in the middle of the night." Kakashi freezes.

"No way did a sleeping civilian catch me." Kakashi looks up at her under raised eyebrows, head bent forward. He sounds offended. Hermione feels a thousand pounds lighter as she grins at him and nods.

"Yes way, they did," she confirms. "That's the part you get hung up on?" The question comes off as more serious than she intended, the laughter in her voice fading as she speaks.

Kakashi shrugs. "I never cared much what people say about me." He doesn't comment on the blow to his occupational pride and Hermione lets it slide.

"We good then?" She asks instead. "Nothing's changed?" The question puts a knot on her windpipe, but she needs the confirmation.

"Why would it?" Kakashi answers and Hermione can breathe again. "How did you even find out?" The dark eyes narrow.

"Er… Well, Kristín cornered me yesterday afternoon." Hermione looks away, she can feel the blush thickening. "And I didn't confirm it, obviously, but I couldn't come up with a way to _deny_ it either. Not without telling her stuff I'd rather not, so, um…" She glances back at Kakashi and the slant of his eyes is probably a smile. "It was a horrifying conversation," She makes a face by pulling her lips up and scrunching her nose.

"I can't imagine," Kakashi says dryly.

Hermione laughs. "You really can't," she says.

"There's one possible upside with it though," Hermione says as they continue their trek. "It gives you a great alibi if you ever feel like that again." She's been thinking about Kakashi's reaction as he was leaving, remembering her own crippling tiredness and how downright exhausting it could be when she needed to put on a mask and be _normal Hermione_.

"Okay," Kakashi confirms evasively.

Hermione stops. Reaches for him before she can think better of it. With a hand on his arm she turns Kakashi towards her. "I mean it," she says, making sure to meet his eyes. "My door is always open."

"Okay," Kakashi says again. His tone is the equivalent of a sigh or a shrug, but it's better. Not an obvious dismissal. Hermione gives him a small smile and a single nod.

They continue down the grassy slopes and breaks up for lunch when they reach the driveway.

* * *

AN: I've thought a lot of where I want to take this and what should happen from here on, but I'm not really sure right now. Please share your thoughts and ideas if you have any, it is always great to hear from you!


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Oh my god! I'm completely blown away by your response after last time. I mean to answer every single one of you (who left signed reviews) but I got so much inspiration I got stuck working instead. You had so many great ideas and thoughts, and I've now got an outline for a bunch of chapters and some kind of direction. Please keep sending these things my way, I don't know what I'd do without you!

* * *

Hermione hangs up the phone. She should be happy. Instead, she swallows around a lump in her throat. _She should be happy_. Only, she's not. Shit. What is wrong with her? By Merlin, she hopes Ginny didn't notice, but she doesn't believe so. People don't usually notice. Deep breath. Look up to make the tears stay in the eyes. Deep breath again. Don't break down. Kakashi's waiting for her in the living room, out of sight but perfectly able to hear her. He's been hanging out at her place a lot in the last week.

The app confirms what she already guesses: PMS. It's not that the feeling is unfounded – Harry should have been the one to call – but she'd usually be able to keep it inside; compartmentalize and go back to knitting in the couch and Kakashi reading in the armchair she sees as his. Possibly nag him into playing cards with her, or forcing him to learn how to crochet, or something else that would distract her until she's calmed down.

It's unfair, her sitting here strangling herself to push down sobs when _they_ are the ones who are idiots. Flinging the phone across the kitchen seems like a great idea, but unfortunately Hermione can't turn off her logical side enough to react with that much impulsiveness. She places it carefully on the table instead. Gives up on keeping the tears from falling and places her forehead on her folded arms. Tears hitting the wooden tabletop will not make sounds enough to matter.

.oOo.

Something in Kakashi broke, out on that mountainside after they made up. It could be his will to fight with her, or his will to keep fighting for himself, but either way he's stopped caring. More time is spent at Hermione's now, because it keeps him away from his hosts and allows him to stare emptily at the walls for as long as he likes. Hermione deals with amazing ease, letting her life play out around him when they're not doing things together, and maybe she really _does_ know what this feels like.

People thinks they're sleeping together, but Kakashi never cared about those kinds of rumors. He knows too well the destructive forces of people talking, has been the center of attention himself more than once, but this is not that. No. As long as this gossip doesn't bother Hermione, Kakashi has no problem with it. It's not like it's getting in the way of him finding someone, that kind of thing isn't for him. Reading about it is good and all, but he'll never be like the characters in his books.

Kakashi didn't listen to what Hermione was saying on the phone, but he can't help but hear the silence afterwards. With time, it gets heavy; too compact compared to the ones that rest lightly between the clacks of knitting needles or the rustle of pages being turned. The quality of the air is clogging up Kakashi's lungs, and he's not scared, exactly, but apprehensive. Also, it's Hermione, and a not insignificant part of the uneasiness can be attributed to Kakashi not wanting her to be anything but alright. In the past, he's failed every single occasion like this, but that can't mean he stops trying to get them right. He will be Hokage, and the Hokage can't run from anything.

Pausing in the doorway Kakashi watches her, wild hair strewn over the table and unvoiced sobs traveling up her spine. Panic holds him frozen for a moment, but he breaths slowly and pushes it away. He can't run. She will not forgive him. If he could face fighting Obito, he can face this. 'Be honest,' she's told him several time over the last days, 'it doesn't have to be perfect, just honest.' Honestly, Kakashi thinks these things should be done in private. Tears are not to be shown. He has a feeling Hermione disagrees.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asks, and the question nearly brings Hermione right off the chair.

"Jesus Christ, Kakashi," she says, and the face she turns to him is blotched, the arms of her sweater visibly damp. "I should put a bell on you or something."

Kakashi shrugs. "I told you no sleeping civilian should have heard me get home." It's not the right thing to say, merely a kneejerk reaction to a chance at a conversation he can handle. He needs to do better. Like she would do it.

"Yeah, well, doors." Hermione swipes at her face. "I'm sorry, I…" Kakashi can't help but raise an eyebrow at her, knowing where that start tends to lead. The pressure of answering her self-accusing tirades is something he can live without, for the rest of his life preferably. "…shouldn't be apologizing, should I? That only makes this worse for you." Hermione says. "I'm just PMSing, and Ginny had to call, and…" She's crying again, not a lot but openly, and Kakashi has the feeling this is _not_ the time to ask what PMS means. "If you want to go, that's okay, I understand."

"What do you want?" Kakashi asks, because her phrasing tells him it might be something else. He wants to go, desperately, but that's proved to be a bad decision in the past. He fought too hard to be here to mess this up now. Hermione meets his eyes and Kakashi holds the gaze, ignoring the clawing feeling in his chest. He has faced down worse. At least this time, her tears don't seem to be caused by him.

"I want you to stay." The voice is rough, and Hermione clears her throat. "But I told you, it's okay. I'll be okay." She looks away, tears trailing down he cheeks and her breathing ragged.

The decision is easier then Kakashi anticipated; he's sacrificed a lot more for people meaning far less. Shinobi who abandons their friends are worse than scum, after all. Strange as it is, this unpredictable emotional civilian, halfway around the earth, who's making him go see a _therapist_ tomorrow, and who knows almost nothing about him, is turning out more important to Kakashi than many shinobi he's fought side by side with. He wonders what that says about him.

With his heartbeat thrumming against his ribcage Kakashi goes to the table and sits down.

.oOo.

"You don't have to," Hermione starts before Kakashi cuts her off.

"Why is it," he says, "that you can do things for me, but not the other way around?" He studies Hermione as she searches for an answer. There are no words for it; the way Ron sacrificed things she never asked for, and the conditioning to guilt and shame that created.

"I'm just being ridiculous," Hermione says instead. "I shouldn't even be _sad_. Ginny had great news. They're getting married in the fall, and they want me to come, only they couldn't send me the invitation since they didn't have the address."

"But?" Kakashi says, folding to the topic-change. It's impossible to read him, but she's seen enough of his reactions to these kinds of conversations to guess what's behind the façade.

"But, it should have been _Harry_." Hermione realizes he knows too little to make sense of the statement, she's mentioned her friends from time to time, but never tied the story together. "It was Harry and Ron and I all through school, he was like my brother. Only he took Ron's side, later, or from the start maybe, I don't know, and…" She takes a gulping breath of air. Kakashi is blank. "I'm not making much sense, am I?" Hermione asks.

"No," Kakashi says. He has stillness surrounding him in the way he gets when he's out of his depth. "But I'm not sure I'd have anything to add even if you explained."

Hermione should cut him loose, not have him sit through this when she is able to spare him. But she wants him to know, has never explained any of it to anyone, and even if Kakashi won't be able to tell her if she's the crazy one in all of this she can at least listen to her own words as she speaks them. Writing and speaking is two different things after all.

"Could I tell you anyway? If you don't have to say anything? I've never heard it told." Kakashi doesn't blink as he nods.

Collecting herself, Hermione tells not the full story, because the Statue of Secrecy still applies and most of the more action-packed events have to be censored out, but most of the things that matter. She tells him how they treated her in the very beginning, and Ron's words that fateful charm's lesson, and how isolated and lonely she'd been up until they became friends. She tells him about school, and a lot – but not everything – of what came after.

Kissing Ron was a mistake, a heat-of-the-moment, we-might-be-dead-tomorrow thing that couldn't be ignored. They worked as friends, would have continued working, but as a couple? The worst part is that Hermione asked herself, from the very beginning, if she was making a mistake. And she told herself she wasn't. Ron had changed, she told herself, he'd grown up, and he'd continue maturing. Only, now, she's not so sure he had.

It had felt amazing, at first. They had shared everything, helped each other heal and gotten as close as two people ever could, and that had filled her world and made her blind to the warning signs. Like Ron taking offence when she told him things, or telling her she was bossy, and a know-it-all, and he knew-what-he-was-doing-thank-you-very-much. Only she was still the one who was supposed to keep track of everything, and it is very hard to not be domineering when otherwise nothing gets done. It's also very hard to discuss that when one part gets affronted and accuses the other of being impossible.

People had suggested that she 'loosen up a bit,' or 'try not to control everything,' and maybe 'she'd be happier.' It was especially hypocritical hearing it from Harry and Ron, neither of whom would have had _pants_ for their year on the run if she hadn't packed for them. Or a tent. Or anything really. It was also funny – even if she can't tell Kakashi that part – how, after Harry killed Voldemort, Ron was the one depicted by media as the loyal sidekick and Hermione as the book-worm/love-interest they dragged along. Not that she ever wanted fame or publicity, but it's hard not to wonder how the story would have gone without her in it, and how it would be told if she'd been a he.

Hermione had woken up one day, over half a decade later, and realized she didn't dare buy new cushions for their couch. Because Ron couldn't see the need, and if she just went out and did it she'd be making decisions without him again. She'd known then that not only couldn't she start a family without a solid partner to depend on, she was also losing her own agency. In their relationship she learnt that the independent, stubborn, self-confident person she used to be was unwanted, and she solved it by self-eradication. Maybe she would leave for a life alone, because she is a bossy know-it-all who pushes her opinions on people, but it didn't matter. Hermione was done treading carefully around someone else's emotions.

"I just can't change," she says in the end, her voice thickening and tears resurfacing in her eyes. She got through the whole story without crying. "I've _tried_, I really did, but I can't make my mind stop. It plans, and questions, and analyzes, and sometimes those things reach my mouth before I know it. And I realize that makes me an insufferable know-it-all and I sometimes unwillingly cut people down, but I thought my friends knew I always mean to help, it just comes out wrong sometimes. But Ron apparently never got that, and now Harry isn't the one calling so I'm guessing he's didn't either, and even my _mom_ tells me I can be a handful, and…"

Once she starts sobbing there's no stopping. There are snot and tears pooling against her lips and hanging from her chin; grabbing a paper to wipe the worst of it off and blow her nose only helps for a short while. Hermione hugs herself, while Kakashi silently watches, and this might be the most vulnerable she's ever felt. It doesn't matter what she told him, she wishes he would say something, but knows she can't ask for it. He is here, that has to be enough.

When he does speak, it's not what Hermione wants to hear. "Don't cry," he says, and Hermione is unsure if it's more for her sake or his own.

"Why not? It's not like not crying makes it hurt any less." She can hear the reproach in her own voice.

Kakashi cocks his head as she meets his eyes. He's not hyperventilating, at least, but she can see his mind working. "While that might be right," he says, forming the sounds with great care, "I just think they're not worth it. They are wrong, and they are the ones who should be sorry." Warmth and terror blooms simultaneously in Hermione's chest. She hears him, but she knows how it goes.

Her hand reaches for another paper towel and she blows her nose again. The long speech and loss of fluids is making her desperately thirsty and she should get up, throw the trash away and get a glass of water. She does neither, wads the paper to a ball and drops it on the table. Not even the Gryffindor in her dares come up with an answer to Kakashi's comment.

The hurt doesn't come out with the sobs, neither does the tears wash it away. Crying masks it for a while, with the sting on her eyelids and cheeks, the painful tightness of her throat, and the humiliation of having someone see her make all the stupid sob-faces that no one ever does on film. But none of it takes the actual hurt away. The cutting edge of it dulls down after a while, leaving nothing but empty space where her feelings usually are, and Hermione worn out. This is what's at the core then. The realization that she'll never be more than this. It's no wonder no one can stand her. She's a nightmare, honestly. And she can't change. She breaths in it for a while, lets it settle down. New layers will form around it, she'll feel again, good and bad, until she ends up back here. Nothing here is new.

Except Kakashi.

"Thank you." Hermione's dry throat protests and the words barely carry. She clears it and tries again, speaking into the void of closed eyes and trusting Kakashi to hear her. He hums in response, the sound of it thoughtful.

Hermione gives herself a few more seconds before she rises. Reminded of the last time she sat here crying her eyes out, she crosses to the sink and rinse her face, drinks water straight from the tap, then turns around to lean against the counter. She wants the hollowness to go away. And a hug. She really wants a hug. Kakashi stays seated, his focus out the window hiding his face. The world has almost completely faded into darkness, only black silhouettes remaining of the mountains.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asks when she can no longer stand the silence.

He turns to her, and his eyes aren't as empty as she feared. They're not completely present either. She wonders what he's thinking about.

"Yes," Kakashi says. "Are you?"

A shrug is the only answer Hermione can give him. She's tired, and her tears have run dry. If they hadn't, she might cry again. Because he seems to care, and she's not sure she can handle kindness right now.

"Do you do hugs?" The question hangs between them for a several second. Hermione meant for it to sound casual, but it came out jagged and sticky.

"I," Kakashi rubs his neck, "don't really know." He pronounces each word separately, as if he forces them out. Hermione reels. She's met people like her, who hugs easily and freely, desperately at times. She's met a few people who can't be touched at all when they are upset, and some who never wants to be touched. She's never met someone who doesn't _know_.

"I could sort of use one," she admits, quiet enough that the words only carry because of the absolute silence of the kitchen. Kakashi's eyes snap to hers, then move away as quickly. "I understand if you don't want to. No hard feelings, I probably smell of cows anyway." It's an offer of an easy way out, presented with a smile to take the edge off the conversation.

Kakashi doesn't answer for the longest time. Never answers, if one is particulate. He stands, steps away from the table, and stops. Shoves his hands in his pockets. Turns his head away. It puts a black hole in Hermione's already empty abdomen. One step is enough to bring her into Kakashi's personal space and she pauses there, heart beating wildly in her chest. It feels like walking up to a hippogriff, bowing and hoping to keep your head.

"I'm taking this as a yes," Hermione says. She should have refrained from asking this of him, it can go wrong in several ways. What if Kakashi will want more than hugs? Things she cannot give him, even if she wanted to, which she doesn't. But Hermione feels like she's starving, and what she wishes for is too close now to turn down.

No protest is voiced, and no movements made, and Hermione decides she might never get a clearer affirmative. Kakashi doesn't turn to her as Hermione slowly reaches out, but when she snakes her arms in around his body he takes his hands from his pockets and awkwardly returns the gesture. Closing the distance between them Hermione can feel Kakashi's tightly regulated breaths in her own lungs and his pulse beating as fast as her own. He stands rigid against her, arms lifted around her back rather than resting against it. Like he knows the theory but lacks practice, a voice in the back of Hermione's mind provides.

"Okay?" She asks him, voice muffled by the shoulder she rests her head against. Kakashi's sweater smells like dust and someone else's home.

Hermione feels the minute nod through her hair and shoulder, and allows herself to relax against him. Despite the awkwardness she can feel the oxytocin kicking in and her mind steadies. No one's hugged her since her parents dropped her off at the airport. It doesn't take away the pain, but it's bubble wrap around what's fragile and vulnerable, making her feel a little less likely to break. She wishes to stay like this for an eternity.

.oOo.

Hugging is strange, Kakashi thinks, and nothing like in the books. There's much less 'ample bosom pressing against his chest,' and much more Hermione; her curly hair tickling his ear and cheekbone, and her body lining up with his from his shoulder to his knees. She relaxes against him, her pulse noticeably slowing against his ribcage, and Kakashi closes his eyes. He likes this version better than the literary one. His mind is still whirring with thoughts about what he should have said or done, and it doesn't stop, but it slows down. In its wake comes the tiredness he's learnt to expect, slackening his muscles and leaving him lightheaded and unbalanced. He could fall asleep here, if he wasn't focused on staying upright.

There is probably an appropriate amount of time for a hug, especially one between friends, but Kakashi doesn't know it. Besides, he's doing this for Hermione, and he will give her as long as she needs.

* * *

AN: I'm sorry if I'm bashing on Ron here, but I really can't see how they worked out as a couple. This is sort of how I imagine it going, because honestly, he's reading Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, and a year later they're together? To me it doesn't seem like he's matured much at all, and he always had an inferiority-complex that clashes with Hermione's book-smarts, drive, perfectionism, and will to advice others. I don't know, maybe I'm overly pessimistic, but this is my story, and this is how it goes.

Let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: It took me some time to get this chapter up, because I was visiting family for Easter and couldn't write. I'm back in business now, but next week I go from 2 to 4 hours of work every day (I'm on my way back to work after a burnout), so I might be completely wiped out for a while. More is coming, but it might be an extra week or so depending on how the increase in working hours go.

* * *

It takes two days for Kakashi to tell Hermione anything about the visit to the therapist. She had asked, of course, when they met up afterwards, and Kakashi can't remember what he said, only that he didn't answer.

Psych eval at T&I was miles better than sitting across Jón the therapist in a bland room where white curtains with grey circles were all the fun anyone was allowed to have. At least with T&I Kakashi can sometimes guess which answers were the right ones to remain on duty. He has no clue what's right in a situation where he's supposed to cooperate to evaluate his mental health. Be honest, Hermione had said as she dropped him off. But honesty is complicated when so much is redacted, and Kakashi often doesn't know the honest answers to begin with. It didn't help that he catched how Jón's eyes widened when he looked at the first page of Kakashi's PTSD form, and Kakashi realized normal people probably shouldn't have that many boxes ticked. Luckily, citing he'd been a special ops soldier got him out sharing any details about the events. Jón didn't need to know a lot of it happened before and after ANBU, and as such aren't technically classified if Kakashi takes away the parts with chakra control and jutsus.

Kakashi didn't reach the score needed to be diagnosed with PTSD, but having seen the questions he knows he would have, years ago. Instead, Jón confirmed what Hermione already told him; depression, and signs of heightened stress levels. It wasn't even a surprise at that point, and Kakashi still has no idea how to feel about that.

For two days, the visit spins round and round in Kakashi's head, before he's sitting at Hermione's staring out the window, and she asks him what he's thinking about. And he tells her. That the therapist thinks he should come back, that he wants Kakashi to consider anti-depressants, and that he doesn't need to be_ drugged_. Hermione gives him a small smile that puts lead in Kakashi's stomach and a rubber band around his throat.

Hermione only needs ten minutes to convince him it's worth trying. Seeing how she's been right about everything so far, it would be illogical of Kakashi to question her now. A part of Kakashi wonders if this is why he brought it up to begin with, to have her make the decision for him, because there is no fight and no choices left in him. As Hokage he'll need plenty of both.

"It's not actually happy pills, you know," she tells him. "They won't magically make everything alright. You still have to do that, and it'll take a lot of work and hours of therapy. Medication just puts you in a place where the bad days aren't necessarily as bad, and happiness is a possibility."

Committing to therapy is one of the hardest things Kakashi has ever done. He hates everything about it. Even so, he goes back for his second time, he takes the pills, and he tells himself that he made the choice to protect Konoha a long time ago, and that this is not the time to back down. Especially since the danger is _him_, and the way he'll kill them all if he can't get his head back on straight. Jón at least accepts the fact that Kakashi won't talk about his past, and agrees to stick to the here and now, and coping techniques. It's a small mercy, but a significant one.

Kakashi has been told repeatedly that the medication takes some time to kick in. That it might get worse before it gets better. That the dosage he takes for the first six days is too low to give him anything but side-effects. He could still live without the added exhaustion, the headaches and the disconnected feeling.

Five days in, it has stabilized back to regular tiredness and he goes with Hermione to the pool. The warm water welcomes him back as it wraps around his body, easing the tension in his shoulders. Not long ago he might have thought of it as an embrace, but he can't do that now, not with the memory of Hermione's arms around him fresh in his mind even two weeks later. Kakashi didn't use to be someone who approved of touching. Now, he can't stop thinking about the rhythm of Hermione being alive against him and his thoughts slowing down. It doesn't help that she reaches for him more often since their hug. Only small touches; a hand on his arm, a nudge from her shoulder, and Kakashi can't make himself mind.

"You were fast today." Kakashi opens his eyes and watches Hermione step into the pool. Seeing her in nothing but a bikini is still awkward the fourth time around. Men and women shouldn't be sharing baths, or hugs. Not unless they mean for it to be something more. Kakashi definitely, doubtlessly, absolutely wants nothing more, and he hopes he is not leading Hermione on. He knows people have fallen for him in the past, but he never figured out how to stop it. (Except for with a Chidori through the chest, a traitorous part of his mind whispers, but he's not going there. He's not.)

"The changing room was empty," Kakashi says, forcing his focus back to the conversation.

"What does that," Hermione cuts herself off. "Ah," she says and looks out over the empty pool area. The sun lights up the top of the mountains behind her, days the getting noticeably longer. In two months, it will be midsummer, and the sun will set only behind mountains leaving the nights no more than a transition from dusk to dawn. Or so Kakashi's heard.

"Does anyone ever ask about it?" Hermione finally says, turning back to him. The water does little to hide how she fiddles with her fingernails. "The mask, I mean," she clarifies when he fails to answer right away. As if he didn't know what she meant.

"Not really," Kakashi answers. There is no harm in that alone.

"Can I?"

Hermione's gaze burns against the side of Kakashi's face as he turns away. Lazy steam rises from the pools in the cooling air. He has no idea how to respond.

Kakashi doesn't believe in sharing. He's raised to keep things inside, to filter his words carefully, and to bury any vulnerability deep. Because shinobi don't show emotion, and they don't show tears. Shinobi builds their lives around their reputations, after all, and their strength mustn't be questioned. As he sits in the silence now Kakashi muses about how differently Hermione handles things. How she plods straight through her demons instead of avoiding them, and how that might remove their power more effectively. Or not. It's impossible to know.

On the other hand, what does he have to lose by trying? This answer is old by now, and hold little power over him either way. It could be a way to repay some of the trust Hermione has given him.

"My only memories of my mother are her in a hospital room, and the importance she didn't get sick," Kakashi tells the air in front of him. His voice cooperates better than he thought it would. "We had to wear these masks when we visited, to protect her, and I guess I must have thought she'd be safer if I covered my face up the same way whenever I left the house. That way I wouldn't get sick and pass it on to her."

For a second Kakashi hesitates, unsure if he should go on. Hermione stays silent. "She died anyway, but the mask stayed on. I guess I might have grown out of it, but…"

A shrug finds its way to Kakashi's shoulders. A quick glance shows Hermione studying him, head cocked to the side and a small frown straining the muscles around her eyes. He has never told anyone what happened to either of his parents, even if many have known. Above the board fence protecting them from the wind the mountaintops slowly lose the last of their golden crowns. Somewhere inside Kakashi pieces click into place, like he understands himself better simply from having to explain things.

To continue is not a conscious choice, but silence is an established way to keep people talking, and Hermione obviously knows how to use it.

"Not long after I started school my dad, who was a soldier, ordered his team to walk away from a mission to save them. They hated him for it, the whole village did. The mission is supposed to come first." Kakashi lets the words fade. His insides contrast sharply with the warmth of his skin, and he thinks about getting out of the water. The shunning of his father has followed Kakashi his whole life, a harsh reminder how brittle respect is and how far you fall when it turns to contempt. He hadn't planned to tell Hermione about it.

"What happened?" Hermione asks, but it's more of a nudge than an actual inquiry.

The problem is Kakashi brought up this subject to begin with, meaning he will have to see it through. He should have kept his mouth shut from the start and changed the topic. Now, sharing half the story will be worse than finishing it, because Hermione will fill the gaps with her own truths. Kakashi allows his toes to press against tiles in the pool and his legs to tense up, knowing it won't be visible under the water. His teeth bite down on his tongue hard enough to leave the taste of blood in his mouth as he speaks.

"He couldn't take it. He killed himself." Even if Kakashi has forgiven his father, talking about his death is like prodding at a deep bruise. "I found him on our living room floor." Compared to what came after, the deaths of his parents aren't very bad; he is not the sole blame for what happened to _them_. Speaking about it shouldn't have to be hurt. But it does.

"That's… I don't know what to say." Hermione's voice is low and soft, and Kakashi can't stand the thought of looking at her and finding pity, so he doesn't. "I'm sorry. About your parents. Which sounds distant and cliché, but I mean it. I'm also slightly pissed off, to be honest, at the people doing that to your dad."

"I was one of them," Kakashi feels compelled to tell her. He is neither a saint nor an innocent victim and doesn't want to be seen as either.

Hermione is a civilian, with a strong moral code and the belief there's a clear line between right and wrong. In reality, Kakashi knows, it's all shades of grey and a matter of perspective. Glancing over to see a frown on Hermione's face he realizes he'll have to give her more, or she might never look at him the same again. "You need to understand," he explains, "that in the last thirty years my country has fought two wars, more than one terrorist organisation, and there's been several major attacks on my village. The rules are there for a reason. One mission being abandoned might cause the deaths of hundreds."

"I get that, trust me, I do. I know sometimes sacrifices have to be made. But if you can't even try to save your friends, what will you have left to fight for? To _live_ for?" There's fire in Hermione's voice and ash in Kakashi's mouth.

An invisible hand grasps Kakashi's throat. He can't do this. Needs to get out of here. It started as a straightforward question about his mask, how did it become a conversation about letting friends die? "I'm going to shower," he manages. It's too little, too easy for her to misinterpret, but he can't give her more. He takes control of his body and steps out of the pool, dimly registering the cold concrete against his bare feet as he walks away.

In the empty locker room Kakashi sinks down on a bench and waits his lungs regain their function and his sense of balance to steady. Once sure he can remain upright he washes off slowly, trying to let the water rinse away the traces of the conversation. Speaking about things is clearly not worth it. Not with that tone in Hermione's voice and this ache in his chest now. Kakashi can't see why Hermione willingly puts herself through something so painful. It must be different for her.

She waits for him by the car, roles reversed from their first time here. Kakashi stops well out of reach, but she gravitates towards him. "I'm sorry," she says, eyes wide, "I didn't mean to, I got carried away, and I completely disregarded the cultural differences, and I shouldn't have implied… It was wrong of me."

They told him it might get worse before it got better, but Kakashi isn't prepared for this. He wants the numbness back. He wants to be able to breath properly. "No," he says none the less. It's important she doesn't suffer on his behalf. "You're right, I learnt that the hard way later."

He keeps the 'too late' for himself.

"Oh," Hermione says. With his head turned away Kakashi still catches her arm moving and can remain motionless as her fingertips land on his elbow. It's not a grip strong enough to move his limb alone, but he allows himself to go with it and steps up to her. The arms that wrap around him is stronger than he remembers them, and in the contact with her Kakashi feels he trembles.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asks.

There's nothing to do but laugh, and Kakashi suddenly understands Hermione's reaction in her hallway all those weeks ago. It sounds broken, even in his own ears, but everything about this is broken. He laughs at the ridiculousness of Hermione's question, and at his own pathetic weakness, and at the fact that he shouldn't be laughing to being with. He laughs because he doesn't know how to cry. "It was a long time ago," he says when he gets his voice back, the words scratching his windpipe. "I'm fine."

Hermione huffs against his shoulder. "Yeah," she says, "I sort of don't believe you. But that's okay. We don't have to speak about it."

The laughter left Kakashi feeling even more ragged and aching. Autonomic functions seem to have stopped working, but Hermione breathes against him, giving him something to anchor his own rhythm against. For a while it's all he thinks about, filling and emptying his lungs along with hers. With time, the weight in his chest spreads out more evenly, making his limbs feel heavy. He should step away, end this hug, but he can't make himself do so. Staying is easier than dealing with the aftermath of having to look her in the eyes and feel the shame of this moment.

"Hey," Hermione says, and tightens her grip for a second. "It'll get better, okay? Antidepressants can increase your anxiety at first, but it almost always turns around." Kakashi has no frame of reference for what anxiety is, or if he's felt it, but he doesn't have the energy for that discussion.

"I think I hate these pills," he admits, grateful for the given excuse for his transgression. He would like to think he'd have handled this better if not for the medication.

"You go up to full dose like tomorrow, right?" Kakashi nods. "Okay. And I'm having that weekend off in just over two weeks, when I think you should come road tripping with me. If it's not better by then, we'll figure something out, alright?" Kakashi nods again. Hermione breaks their hug, but holds him in place with her hands on his arms. Kakashi simultaneously craves both more and less distance between them. "And if it gets worse," she says, forcing him to look at her, "you let me know."

It's not a question, but the pressure from Hermione's fingers indicate she wants an answer. There's an urgency in her eyes that Kakashi wishes he could look away from. His lungs are shrinking again. What's expected of him is obvious, but he's not in the habit of going back on his word once given.

He nods.

Before he looks away Kakashi catches the twitch of Hermione's lips. "Good," she says, "I'm right here, you know, whenever you need me. If you don't want to talk about it I'm also good at long rambling monologues about things that upset me, and hugs. A pro, if you ask me." Her tone is light with the last sentence and when Kakashi glances at her the intensity has faded into softness and the wrinkles around her eyes that comes with her smiling. It's enough that he should be able to create an exit and make a tactical retreat. "So," she continues, "what now? Rambling monologue or more hugs?"

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. "Let's just get out of here," he says, adding a smile he can't quite back up with feeling. "It's too cold for rambling monologues."

"They work just as well in the car," Hermione says, and throws herself into a description of some new tv show she's tried watching but gave up on. "I mean," she says as they speed down a rapidly darkening road, "why can't anyone write female characters with some goddamn _dignity_. Or brains. She should have just sent that asshole packing, but it's like, she's nothing without a love interest, so she settles for who-the-fuck-ever that treats her like trash in a dive bar. Let her show some self-respect and get a healthy relationship or none at all. The romance usually just gets in the way of plot anyhow."

"What's wrong with romance?" Kakashi can't help but ask. The distraction of the subject makes him feel almost normal again. He suspects that is what Hermione is going for.

"Well," Hermione waves the hand not on the steering wheel, "it's all along the lines of 'he's a boy, she's a girl, they notice each other and therefore falls in love.'"

"So, you don't like people finding each other?"

"I…" Hermione pauses, and glances at him before looking back at the road. "I want people to actually connect, not just walk around on cloud nine with rose-colored glasses and completely ignore every reason they'd be horrible together. And maybe it's because I'm damaged and cynical and never want a romantic relationship ever again, but I just can't see why people can't simply be good friends. Without throwing away their common sense because of some awkward sexual attraction I prefer not to get the details of."

"I think," Kakashi answers slowly, "that if you get past the 'awkward sexual attraction', there's a lot of books that that give you people finding one another in a good way." He moves the pieces of their conversation around in his head, trying to put words on what's missing. "I also think, that maybe the problem isn't that they should be horrible together, but isn't. It is that, in real life, it's never that easy."

Hermione goes silent and Kakashi's temporary equilibrium goes away. He pushed it too far, he wasn't meant to question her. "Sorry, I'm." The words stick in his throat. Outside his car widow the lights of a house pass by.

"No, no," Hermione says and the smile in her voice allows Kakashi to feel the ground beneath him again, "I actually like being questioned, as long as I get to reserve my right to _not_ change my mind if I'm not convinced. I'm just figuring out how to answer." She takes a breath. "I think you've got a point, but you're talking about romance novels, right? I'm not. I mean, I love a good dance movie every now and then; there's definitely a place for sappy stories about matches made in heaven and everyone ending up happy. I'm talking about all the movies and tv shows where a strong, intelligent heroine gives up her entire independence and pride because some dude with a pretty face shows up. Or all the smart and funny guys who fall for girls who stares starry-eyed at them and will never challenge them in any way. Who wants that?"

Kakashi thinks it over. He only started watching movies since he came here, and can't see the point of tv series, but he's read a book or two like that. "Your rant shouldn't be about romance then, it should be about bad writing," he concludes. Hermione's laugh fills the car and sinks into Kakashi, reminding him that this is also life: the warm feeling of laughter.

"You've gone and done it now," Hermione says, "you have _no idea_ how much I have to say about bad writing."

The topic is enough to fill the rest of the car ride, with Kakashi chipping in an example or two. It's been a fortnight since Hermione broke down in her kitchen, and talking to her now Kakashi can't help but wonder about that. He can't see how anyone would find her to be either an insufferable know-it-all or overbearing. Hermione is opinionated, yes, but also interested in what Kakashi has to say, and intelligent enough to offer excellent verbal sparring. Under such conditions it's not strange that Kakashi sometimes takes the opposite side of a possible discussion only to see what will happen. Gai and his challenges must have affected him more than he's realized.

"I'm going to borrow you some _proper_ books, because you need a wider frame of reference," Hermione says as she pulls the car to a stop outside Heimstaðir.

"Keep it up with that tone and I'll sit on you while loudly translating _all_ of Icha-Icha." Kakashi gives her his most innocent smile, the one Naruto once said would give him nightmares. "Only to give you a 'wider frame of reference' of course."

"Eugh, no, that would be horrifying." Hermione laughs and hides her face in her hands. This precise reaction is one of the greatest benefits of Kakashi's choice of literature. People are very predictable.

"I promise you, it's all very innocent," he says, and he's hardly even lying. There is no downright sex in any of the books, and Hermione believing anything else is all on her.

"Get out of my car." Hermione pushes Kakashi towards the door.

.oOo.

Laying in his bed later, longing for sleep while his too fast and loud heartbeat drum in his ears, Kakashi's mind refuses to calm down. He should have stayed away from the subject of his dad. Shouldn't have let Hermione's casual touch pull him in. Should have pushed it all down, like he's always done before. Next time, he must be stronger.

It's the pills, he tells himself. It'll get better. But a small voice inside him can't be silenced as it asks if he hasn't been thinking things like these for far too long to blame it on medication. He pushes it away and focuses instead on the one genuinely good thing he learnt today; Hermione doesn't want a romantic relationship ever again. That should mean he's safe in that regard at least.

There was something, however, in the words Hermione spoke, and in her arms wrapped around him, that Kakashi can't let go of. He's felt lonely before in his life, but not like in this moment. Somehow, the feeling is made worse instead of better by the knowledge that there is _something else_, close enough to touch. The only thing he'd have to do is reach out, and he'd have it. The thought is terrifying.

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AN: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think.


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Honestly, this chapter is not the best thing I've published. However, I decided to post this anyway, because I'm happy with myself for writing this at all, and if I try to get it better it'll take forever (meaning I'll never get to the next chapter). This is a bit of a filler anyway, because I needed some time to pass. I'll make the coming one better, I promise, and now I'll stop rambling and let you read. Lots of love to you!

* * *

Kakashi crocheting is something Hermione never thought would happen, until it does. She's been nagging him about it for some time, thinking it would give both of them something to do, but it's not until almost a week after the visit to the pool that she finally succeeds. It could be the pills kicking in, or Hermione being very insistent. She remembers the feeling though, from her own times on anti-depressants, of one day realizing that boredom is coming back. Like smog finally beginning to clear. For Kakashi's sake she hopes that what's beginning to happen.

They sit next to each other on the couch, and Hermione shows him how to chain, and make single and double crochets. His hands pick up the motions with remarkable speed. No more than an hour later he has finished a headband, it's stitches even and edges perfectly straight.

"Wow," she says, "you are actually really good at this." Finding a tapestry needle, she shows him how to weave in the ends. The yarn he picked from her ever-growing collection of scraps is dark blue Icelandic wool. Not something she would want over her ears and forehead, but she can admit the color will look great with his silver-grey hair.

"I just don't see the point," Kakashi tells her as he cuts off the ends and slips the headband on. It's on the big side, slipping down to cover his scarred eye, but Kakashi doesn't seem to mind. "Why spend an hour making this when I could buy one in a matter of minutes?" He leans against the couch, lets his head fall backwards and closes his visible eye.

"Well," she says, "you can get exactly what you want. But it's also about the process of making it; I find it meditative to work with my hands."

Kakashi hums, sounding tired. Hermione wants to lean up against him and watch a movie. In the last month alone she's gotten two real hugs, which is more than she's had in a long time. It's been a fix of a drug she thought she had kicked the addiction of. She's asked herself, more than once, if she wants to be close to Kakashi specifically, or if he's just the only one available. So far, there has been no answer to find, and instead she tells herself maybe it doesn't have to matter. He is her friend, and maybe friends can fill that void for each other without it having to mean anything more.

"I think katas or target practice has better practical and meditational value," Kakashi says, "or, you know, _actual_ meditation." Hermione has a hard time deciding whether it's mind-blowing or completely obvious that Kakashi apparently knows mediation.

"You know, meditation is actually great for bringing your autonomic nervous system back on track when it gets stuck in stress-mode." She has already told him that he shouldn't be training hard enough to get adrenaline, and she thinks they might get into a fight if she brings _that_ up again, so she doesn't. This part she hasn't spoken about however. "There are studies that show two short breathing exercises every day can make your sleep more restful."

"What makes you think my sleep isn't restful?" Kakashi opens his eye and turns his head to look at her. The visible eyebrow raises to make his point.

Hermione shrugs. "Is it?" The eye falls shut and Kakashi turns back to the ceiling. A smile thugs at the corners of Hermione's mouth. She never expected him to answer. "So," she says, changing the subject, "do I need to worry about retaliation for making you try crocheting?"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Kakashi's tone is dry.

"Not that you'd _have_ to dream about anything if you can carry it out instead." Hermione answers, and she thinks there's a small movement under the mask. "FYI: You'll never get me running, and I tried and failed to learn hand standing as a kid."

"Who said I'd retaliate by teaching you something?"

"Well, I did." Hermione grins. "And I'm still not convinced you actually know how to throw knives, so…"

Kakashi turns to her, and she can't believe having one eye covered up like that doesn't bother him. "You want to learn how to throw knives." It's a statement, and Hermione feels stupid. He isn't supposed to be this good at reading her. "Why not just ask?"

"I don't know." Hermione hesitates. Scratches her nose. Pulls her legs up and place her chin on them. "I guess," she says, "that I didn't want to inconvenience you."

"We've already covered that part," Kakashi says. Hermione's stomach makes a painful flip. She not supposed to assume he's that polite. She can't get anything right today. "Ask your question," he continues, and there's no getting out of it at this point. At least he sounds more tired than frustrated, if that's a good thing.

"Could you teach me how to throw knives?" Voicing the request is awkward, and Hermione can feel heat rise to her face. She doesn't want him to feel obligated to do anything. The problem with asking for things is her feeling like it's only done as a concession, not as a choice.

"Why do you want to learn that?" Kakashi asks her, and she's too busy trying to sink through the couch to decode more than his words.

"It just seems like a cool thing to know. Random." She tries a smile and shrugs. "Could be an epic party trick. Not that I really _like_ parties, but." Kakashi blinks slowly at her, and she realizes he might not see knife-throwing like a party trick. Oops. She's been talking past herself again. "I don't know," she adds, trying to negate some of the damage, "it's one of those things no one would expect me to be able to do. An ace up my sleeve when I'm accused of being a boring book-worm who only know things in theory."

"Hn," Kakashi straightens his neck and looks back at the ceiling, "I'll see what I can do."

It's not a yes, but it's not a no either.

.oOo.

Spring is around the corner; the fields in the lower part of the valley shift from yellow to green, and the list of things that need doing grows longer. Hermione's official hours are only enough for milking seven days a week, but she never liked watching others work while she sits idle. She helps walking the fences instead, repairs gates, nails barbed wire to wooden posts, and gets an extensive collection of little cuts and scratches as payoff. A whole afternoon is spent in Kakashi's company untangling an enormous nest of electrical cord and putting up a temporary fence for Ingo to bring the horses home.

Trying to change the route of seven galloping houses with a riding whip feels like trying to stave off the tide with a bucket. Hermione is supposed to make herself big, loud, and scary, but the horses outmatch her in all three categories. They get the horses back down from the garden and try again with Kristín backing her up at the gate, and this time the horses turn in front of them and goes inside the pen. It's a bittersweet victory. The small horses are still fluffy from winter coats not fully shed, and Ingo introduces them, showing her how to approach and what to look out for. Their muzzles are soft and careful as they search her hands, negating some of the left-over nervousness from watching them in full flight. Hermione thinks she can learn to like horses.

That Kakashi has seemed more tired since starting his medication is hardly surprising. Hermione remembers the exhaustion she'd felt as she'd been in his place, as well as the nosebleeds and nausea. Given his reaction at the pool she thinks he's feeling worse emotionally as well, and she knows she should somehow make sure he's not suicidal. Especially after learning about his dad. She'd excused herself out on that parking lot with the reason that the timing was bad, that he was too vulnerable in that moment. She'd used the same excuse later, but for not wanting to shake what stability he had. It makes her a coward and a bad friend, serving as a constant source of guilt and anxiety. Unfortunately, that doesn't make anything easier.

Two nights before their trip, Kakashi hands Hermione a weirdly shaped knife. It's a solid piece that lies heavy in her hand, and a careful stroke of her thumb proves the edges to be sharp enough to do real damage. A weird sense of power comes from holding it. She swallows. This is a weapon, she realizes, not prop for a party trick or a toy for a boring day. Kakashi carries four more, strung together by a piece of rope through the rings ending the handles.

"Did you bring these with you from home?" Hermione asks to have something to say. "I didn't think you could bring stuff like this through customs." The handle under her fingers is wrapped in tape, providing grip against the polished metal.

"No one said anything," Kakashi says, looking perfectly innocent.

Hermione chuckles, her insides unclenching. By now she knows how to read that expression. "You didn't ask, did you?" she asks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Kakashi tries to hide it, but he's smiling under his mask.

"At least you weren't smuggling guns." She raises her eyebrows in tandem, because she never figured out how to move them separately. "I hope?" she adds, suddenly not so sure.

"They don't fly well," Kakashi answers, and Hermione shakes her head and laughs. It dies as she looks back down at the weapon in her hand. While the edges are pristine there's faint scratches along the sides of the blade and a dent in the loop. Something this sturdy doesn't come by that kind of wear and tear easily.

"Have you used these?" She isn't sure she wants to know, but she also knows that as long as nothing's confirmed she'll assume the worst anyway. "Like, for real," she adds.

"Yes," he says, without hesitation or need for clarification. Probably yes to _all_ scenarios then. He holds his quartet up in front of him, studying them. "Maybe not this one," he hits one of the handles, making the whole bunch swing, "it looks new."

Hermione opens her mouth. Closes it again. She can feel Kakashi's eyes on her, but she keeps her gaze on the knife in her hand. Does she really want to ask the next question? If she does, she needs to be prepared for the answer, to be okay with having it confirmed. "Have you killed anyone with them?" Her heart is beating and her palms clammy, but she looks up at Kakashi as she speaks. She owes him that much.

Kakashi stills, his eyebrows twitching downwards before finding a neutral position. "I don't keep track of individual kunai," he says, "so I can't answer for these specifically. But it's not unlikely."

The weight of the blade increases with the answer, and Hermione looks at it, tries to imagine it buried in a human being. She can't. Holding it reminds her of Bellatrix wand. There isn't the same menacing feeling to the knife – kunai Kakashi called it – but it's an inanimate object without a personality, not a wand, and it has hopefully not been used to bring pain in the same way. It's still potentially a murder weapon.

"So, um, have you done that a lot?" Hermione asks, because having gone this far it's better to process the real facts than filling in the gaps on her own. She wishes she could be sure the answers will be the right ones, or that she could reassure Kakashi it doesn't matter. But it does, and he must know that.

"Yes." He holds her gaze, clearly finding it easier to admit to this than to being tired or sad. Hermione thinks about the tattoo on his shoulder, the one he told her are from his time in Black Ops. "Is that going to be a problem?" Kakashi asks, his tone unapologetic but his movements micromanaged. She has guessed, of course, that Kakashi has blood on his hands, but it's never been stated before.

The war Hermione fought only ever had a handful of battles to begin with, and only one of them big enough to be fought by more than a dozen people – most without formal training. She has no clue what it's like to be in an army, least of all some kind of special forces. Kakashi grew up in a culture where the rules state that you should sacrifice anything for the mission. Killing is probably commonplace in such a place. Can she judge him for that? At the battle of Hogwarts she'd left enemies behind, bleeding from wounds she'd known would prove fatal. She has killed too, if not directly.

"I don't know," she admits out loud. It feels unfair to have led them here and not be able to give him a better answer.

"I will not apologize," Kakashi says, "and I will not change." He appears calm, almost detached, but Hermione can see his knuckles whitening from gripping the rope with the kunai. "I will never find pleasure in taking another life, but I do it without remorse when it is necessary."

"Were they all bad people?" That's how Hermione justifies the deaths by her and her friends' hands: Voldemort and his followers were a poison that needed to be stopped, and at the time that was the only way. Imprisoning people isn't a choice in the middle of fighting for your life, and a Stupefy can too easily be undone.

Kakashi stuffs his hands in his pockets, the sharp-edged knives dragging against the fabric of his pants as he shrugs. "There's no such thing as bad people," he says, slowly shaking his head. "There are only different sides and a lot of paths to what you think is right. Everyone fights for things they love, only some do it in the wrong way according to others."

Hermione can't argue with that, even if she wants to for her own sanity's sake.

"Okay," she says instead, dragging a hand through her hair, "I don't like that to be true, and I think that some people are sick, and that some actions are unforgiveable and can't be explained away, but I see your point. No one sees themselves as evil." She gives Kakashi a small smile before she continues. "I'll never condone killing," she makes clear. "I believe life should be preserved if at all possible. But we come from different places, and I think I can live with agreeing to disagree on that. So, no, we don't have a problem."

It's a decision, more than anything. Hermione _decides_ she will be okay with this. Even if she might not be there yet, will need hours to think things over before knowing what she really feels, she needs to be okay with it because the alternative is losing him. The Kakashi she knows probably isn't a cold-blooded murderer any more than Molly Weasley is for deliberately killing Bellatrix. He's probably just been in more of those kinds of situations. Besides, he just called Hermione out on her simplified world-view and refused her naïve justification for his actions. That must speak for something.

She hopes she's never proven wrong.

.oOo.

Before Hermione is allowed to so much as consider sending her first kunai towards the plywood and cardboard target Kakashi has put together, she's given an extensive safety lecture. It drives home the point of this being weapons, and it makes her simultaneously anxious and eager. She's an intellectual pacifist who doesn't believe in violence, but throwing knives is sort of cool anyway. As long as she pushes away the fact that Kakashi uses this to maim and kill.

Kakashi, despite saying he never taught anyone the basics before, turns out to be a good teacher. He breaks the movements down, corrects her stance, and has an eye for catching where she makes mistakes. An hour later Hermione sinks the full set into the cardboard, not a single kunai bouncing of due to faulty rotation, and she raises her arms and cheers. Kakashi smiles and she grins back at him as she goes to collect the knives.

"Well done," he says, when Hermione is on her way back, mindful to not cut her fingers or nick the edges on each other. Handling five kunai at once isn't as effortless as Kakashi make it seem. "I think that's a good place to stop for tonight."

"This was fun," Hermione tells him. "You're a great teacher. I'd never thought I could manage it this well in just an hour, I'm known for being rubbish at catching and throwing things." Her smile widens; beating her own preconceptions - and with something that'll make Ron both jealous and disbelieving should it ever come up (because yes, it's been years, and they're supposed to be friends, but she's still allowed a bit of a grudge) - feels great. "Can I keep practicing on my own?"

"You are obviously not rubbish at throwing things," Kakashi says. It puts a warm feeling in Hermione's chest. "But no, you can't practice on your own until I'm convinced you don't risk injuring yourself. There's a reason you are supposed to start with training knives." Hermione pouts. He raises an eyebrow in return and pats her shoulder. It's a small gesture, jokingly condescending when paired with his tone, but he doesn't usually instigate physical contact. Not even the Icelandic wind can chill Hermione in that moment. "I'll bring them more times," he promises before he picks the kunai from her hands.

"Whoa, not so fast," she says when he begins to string the kunai back together. He stops and looks at her. "I need to see you throwing them for real, not only demonstrating beginner's technique for me. Otherwise, I refuse to believe you are better than me." She puts on a mock innocent face, knowing she's goading him and not ashamed of that in the slightest.

"And what makes you think I'd do anything when you can't even ask nicely?" There's a smile beneath his mask that he tries to hide by a lifted eyebrow and a dry tone.

"Well if you don't I'll lay down and scream on the top of my lungs." Hermione crosses her arms and sticks her tongue out.

"Blackmailing? Really? You know I'm standing here with weapons I'm more than capable of using?" Kakashi holds them up to remind her. With the knowledge gained about his use of the kunai Hermione should probably feel worried, but she doesn't. If anything, him joking about it this way reduces the seriousness of the subject.

"Hm," Hermione pushes her lips together, "fair point. Pretty please?" She smiles sweetly and flutters her eyelashes. "That better?"

"No." Kakashi shudders. With a quick motion he divides the kunai between his hands, three in his left and two in his right, going against the one-kunai-at-a-time rule Hermione has to follow. Turning around so that he has his back to Hermione Kakashi launches the two kunai almost simultaneously and Hermione watches them sail in a straight line before embedding themselves with a dull sound in a fencepost. The three others follow them to form an evenly spaced line along the height of the pole. Hermione blinks.

An inarticulate sound makes its way past Hermione's lips as she stares at Kakashi. He turns to her and cocks his head. "Holy fuck," she says, the words seem appropriate here, "that's what? Fifty feet? That's crazy. They weren't even spinning."

"Ma, I find it better to keep the pointy end towards the enemy." Kakashi shrugs and Hermione laughs with disbelief. "Keep up your training and maybe there'll be time for some more advanced things."

"Not that though," Hermione says as they get the kunai. "I'll never be able to do that." She can hear the awe in her voice but doesn't bother with trying to hide it.

"Probably not," Kakashi agrees, "but then I've been doing this since before you were born, so I have an unfair advantage."

Hermione asks herself if she heard that right. "Since before I was born?" That can't be right. "But you're only four years older than me."

"Yes," Kakashi answers, "and by the time you started that boarding school of yours I'd already done several years in ANBU. Your part of the world moves slowly."

It takes everything Hermione has not to scream. She thinks it shows on her face. This is not, however, a moment when she can freak out. Kakashi just shared something with her, and her going revenging angel on his behalf is more than likely to alienate him. He'd been _fifteen_ when she started Hogwarts. "That's," she stutters, "that's. I don't know what to say to that. How old were you when you enlisted?"

_You don't want to know_; a voice tries to say in the back of Hermione's mind. She ignores it. She asked about Kakashi's kills, he answered, and she is finding a way to deal with that. Far be it from her to not deal now, when he's volunteering information he must know will upset her.

"I finished school and started active duty at five," Kakashi says. It sounds like he thinks that's perfectly normal. For a millisecond Hermione feels sorry for his therapist. "They let me graduate early, because I was good, and it was war."

"But you were a child," she can't help but point out. Kakashi shrugs. The failings of the grown-ups in the magical world forced Hermione to grow up too fast, and it's upsetting enough that they put it on teenagers to fight their war for them. She was only twelve the first time her life was in danger, and for the first time in her life that makes her _old_. It's a messed-up world they live in.

"Kids grow up differently where I come from," he says. "I can't imagine skipping ropes and playing games at the age the children here does it. It would have driven me insane."

"But five?" Hermione stares at him as he finishes up the knot on the sling and looks up to meet her eyes.

"Like I said, it was war." Kakashi still has that awfully casual tone that sounds genuine. "They put in a lower limit, some years later, after an incident. These days no one is allowed to graduate before their twelfth birthday, wonderchild or not."

Hermione rubs a hand over her face. They take the first steps back towards the house in silence. "I'm sorry," she says eventually, "but that's still insane."

"Well," Kakashi says, "I guess that's just another thing where we'll have to agree to disagree."

.oOo.

Kristín and Ingo's son and grandchildren are coming to stay the weekend, so Friday morning after milking Hermione and Kakashi pack their bags in the trunk of the car and hit the road. There's rain in the air, making pin-pricks on the windshield that are too sparse for any setting of the wipers, but too consistent not to wipe away. Hermione smiles.

The sun breaks through as they stop at Goðafoss, giving them rainbows in the mist of the falls and brightening the greens of moss and grass. Kakashi wears his headband going out, despite the way it keeps slipping down, and Hermione sees other tourists watching him. She forgets sometimes that he wears his mask, it having become part of his face, but it sticks out in a crowd. Having lived with Harry for a friend and the Weasley's for family-in-law Hermione is immune to attention both in the magical community and out in the real world, and so isn't bothered. They can stare for all she cares.

They talk, sporadically, and she plays Fleet Foxes and Devotchka, letting them set the tone to the landscape flowing past the windows. Before lunch, when she needs energy, she switches to her regular driving playlist and sings along to All Star and MMMBop and Gives You Hell, then sit-dances as much as driving allows to Livin' la Vida Loca. Kakashi calls her insane, as she finally parks the car outside a gas station serving hamburgers. Hermione grins in response. All the best people are a little bit crazy after all.

She tries to get Kakashi to pick the music after lunch, but he refuses. The same unmovable way he refused to let her pay her part of the gas, citing that he has paychecks from 25 years of service he doesn't know what to do with, and that she is the only one driving. Hermione ends up yielding both fights. She keeps telling others to accept _her_ generosity and needs to start listening to her own words, even if giving has always been easier than receiving.

The afternoon is spent in the Mývatn-area, climbing old black-earthed pseudo-craters overlooking the lake, marveling at strangely shaped stone pillars left behind from a time when this place was all wetlands and volcanic activity, and scrambling through the stone mazes at Dimmuborgir. The landscapes are rugged, and unfriendly, and so beautiful they take Hermione's breath away. She can feel the wild magics tugging at her soul as she stands in the wind, lone raindrops hitting her face, and knows it's strong enough that even non-magicals can feel it.

Kakashi seems marginally better, a stable presence at her side as they stand in silence with the world stretching out beneath their feet. He jokes a little more and can be dragged into teasing banter a little easier, but still disappears at times; staring out the car windows or falling asleep as Hermione drives.

That's alright. Hermione knows something about being tired.

The next day they continue east. They make an unplanned stop at a random parking lot in the Námaskarð pass, and it feels like another planet. The ground is burnt orange under Hermione's feet, whiter areas off the path indicating the thinness of the crust, and the distant mountaintops providing a blue-grey contrast to bring the color out. Standing on the top of Namafjáll, looking down at the foul-smelling, bubbling, smoky geothermal area where they plan to stop next, Hermione feels perfectly content. Like she could do this forever. Not even the smell of rotten eggs can destroy the stillness of her mind. She bumps into Kakashi with her shoulder. "I'm happy you joined me," she tells him.

"Well," he says, tone dry, "this way you can at least pretend to be speaking to someone when you want to seem sane."

Hermione laughs.

The blacks and browns of lava-fields comes next, and then huge dead plains as they follow a bumpy gravel road north. They stand at the side of Dettifoss, getting wet from the amount of water it throws up in the air. Hermione never like fast-flowing rivers, but she has to admit it's a powerful experience. The roar of the water is deafening, and the silence once back in the car feels like cotton in her ears.

Driving the rest of the way to Ásbyrgi takes far longer than expected, but the evening is bright, the sun casting long shadows over the road. When they park in the huge, horse-shoe-shaped canyon the world is greying. Following a path through the low birch forest they come within reach to clamber up to the wall forming the canyon side. Once they make it to a decently flat boulder Hermione turns around and looks out over the shrubbery, the days moisture raising like mist from the treetops. It's a separate universe, shielded by the way it's hundreds of feet lower than the surrounding lands. No one else is around.

"Wow," she whispers, the moment not allowing for anything louder. Rotating slowly on the spot she leans back and takes in the massive wall behind her. She can't guess how high it is, only knows that to her eyes; it goes on forever. Carefully stepping forward between the fallen blocks around them, Hermione places her palm against the uneven rockface. For the first time in her life she wishes she could climb. Not that it'd be allowed in a place like this. She turns to Kakashi to share her thoughts but pauses as she sees his face.

It's a look she knows. Her hand goes to her throat, and under her fingerstips she can feel the faded line clearly. The scar is old enough she doesn't think about it much, hidden as it is under the curve of her chin. It's not strange Kakashi didn't see it until now. "Most people who notice ask about it," she tells him when the silence drags.

"Do you want me to do that?" Kakashi says, studying her. Hermione shrugs.

"I usually make something up," she says, "but it's from a knife." Wrapping an arm across her abdomen Hermione looks back out over the giant canyon.

"I figured," Kakashi says, and for some reason it puts a smile on Hermione's lips. Not a happy one, but still. She decides to tell him.

"You know how I said I went on the run with Harry and Ron when I was seventeen, because a psycho wanted Harry dead?" A glance shows Kakashi nodding. "We ended up in the clutches of said psycho's right hand at one point, and she singled me out to answer questions. Apparently, she gave me this when the boys came to break me out. I wasn't conscious at that point, which is probably good since the rescue mission involved me being hit by a chandelier. The other cuts didn't scar, but for some reason this one did."

Looking over at Kakashi, Hermione can see strain around his eyes and creases where his eyebrows and nose meet. "What do I say to that?" he asks her, and she shrugs in response.

"I don't think there's anything _to_ say," she admits. "It happened. I learned to live with it. End of story."

"I think," Kakashi says after a few seconds, sounding thoughtful, "that some stories never end, they just fade into the background after a while."

And that, Hermione thinks, is why she told Kakashi about this in the first place. Everyone else has freaked out on her behalf.

"Yeah," she says.

In the silence that follows Kakashi places a hand on Hermione's arm. She closes her eyes. "I'm sorry," he says. Somehow that covers it all.

"So am I." Hermione swallows, then takes a moment to memorize the view in front of her before she turns back to Kakashi. Her smile this time is weak but honest.

"Let's get out of here," she says, "I'm starving."

* * *

AN: Thank you so much for sticking with me, and an extra thank you to BrownEyesAngel for the support and for pointing out the thing about the scar! I hope to get started on the next chapter soon, but as with this one I'm exhausted from RL right now. Don't worry however, I haven't stopped, I just work a little slower. In the meantime, please let me know what you think. Reviews always make me happy.


	17. Chapter 17

AN: I'm sorry this took so long. My work's been a catastrophe, to put it mildly, and it's been sucking all life out of me. At least I've found my way back to writing now, which always makes me feel better. This chapter is (by far) the longest yet, meaning it took longer to write, but there's also more to read. More chapters are already planned out, and hopefully real life lets me write more these coming weeks.

Thank you for sticking with me. I love you all!

* * *

Kakashi is still on the phone with the fire department as he jogs after Hermione. The field has her stumbling and swearing, the backpack she wasted time bringing bumping against her with every stride. The house on the opposite side of the valley had come into sight a few minutes ago, smoke coming out from the eaves and dispersing in the wind. Hermione had thrown the phone to Kakashi and told him the number almost before he'd had time to react, then she hit the gas. The car sits abandoned on the roadside behind them now, not able to bring them any closer to their destination.

The plan for today was to sleep in and then take their time driving the backroads home. They were not supposed to end up right by a hornet's nest that just _begs_ Kakashi to kick it. People might be trapped inside the burning house, but there's no way to tell. Not yet. A car is parked in the driveway but that doesn't mean anything, Kakashi tells himself. He thinks he could get away with using chakra in a life-or-death situation, but first he needs to confirm that's what this is. This fire can be dealt with in seconds if needed, even if that might give the house some structural damage, but that could never be explained away once the actual firefighters come here. Besides, civilians are fragile enough that the water-jutsus he knows might kill them more efficiently than the fire will.

This valley, as most of them, is divided by a river in its lowest part, separating them from the house. Spring flooding has it running high on its banks and spreading over the lowest part of the field. Hermione comes to a halt in front of him. Between the operator's question on the phone and everything else going on, Kakashi's grateful for the reminder; people are _not_ supposed to keep running straight out over water. Reigning his instinctual responses in and staying inactive are hard after so many years of training his reflexes to act without thought.

Squatting down Hermione dips her fingers in the water, withdrawing them with a hiss. "It's too cold," she says, staring at Kakashi, "we'll never be able to swim."

Across the river the smoke is steadily increasing in volume but Hermione stands with her back to its source, her eyes trained on Kakashi. There's a peculiar look on her face, narrowing her eyes and turning her lips into nothing more than thin lines. She says something, under her breath, and it's drowned by the voice on the phone asking if Kakashi's still there. As he confirms his presence to the operator Hermione produces an ornate stick. Which she waves around saying made-up words. Kakashi blinks. Blinks again. Has she lost her mind?

Sparks shoot out from the stick.

Kakashi hangs up the phone. He thinks he say something to excuse himself, but he's honestly not sure. The firemen will be on their way no matter what. Hermione makes a frustrated sound as a plastic toy boat appears in front of her. It looks like a magic trick, but there is no such thing as magic. _There isn't_. Right?

"Oh, come on," Hermione shouts as a high-pitched whine is all she gets from her next wave of the stick. Wand, Kakashi thinks, that might just be a _wand_, and this is completely insane. Hermione is a perfectly normal civilian (who's been hunted and tortured, a voice in his head whispers, but he pushes that away), she shouldn't be waving a piece of wood around making pointless things happen.

Despite them not being directly downwind, wayward smoke itches in Kakashi's lungs. He should get out of here, shunshin away when she's distracted. This is not something he should have missed. "Hermione?" he hears himself saying instead, the confusion clear in his voice.

"Questions later." She glances at him and pauses for a second. "I'll explain," she says, face pinched, "after I've managed to get us over there, so we can make sure…" Her eyes whip to the left.

Kakashi turns to follow her stare to a person, too small for a grown-up, that just exited an outbuilding. It runs, as fast as it's legs can carry it, towards the house. Hermione screams for it to stop, her voice loud and panicking.

A wave of her stick makes a crater on the opposite riverbank, soil and grass raining down around it. "Fucking cooperate!" Hermione's voice rings in Kakashi's ears, but the words seem shouted at the universe in general. An uninflated rubber boat turns up and she cries out wordlessly. On the other side of the water the figure has almost reached the front door.

This can now, without doubt, be classified as a life-or-death situation, Kakashi thinks. For the civilian kid, running towards a burning house. And for _Hermione_, who doesn't seem to have any control over what results comes from her wandwaving. In this moment he pushes the strangeness of that thought away, he can process it later. There are things to do first, and shinobi are not ruled by feelings.

.oOo.

"Hermione?" She can hear Kakashi beside her, but there's _no time_. Of course he has questions, she gets that this all is weird and scary and whatever else he might be feeling, but there's a teenage boy taking the last steps before reaching a burning house. She doesn't have time for questions.

The Icelandic magic who felt so wonderfully alive and wild only two days ago are a nightmare now. The harder she pushes the more erratic her results become, and the rubber boat must be the cosmic joke of a lifetime. She hates this fucking country. It's so frustrating she wants to throw things and scream. There's no time for that either.

"Hermione," Kakashi says again, and this time his tone is sharp. An order, rather than a question. Hermione glances to her side and sees he's reaching out, as if waiting for her to take his hand. Across the water the sound of exploding glass draws her attention back. The person who tried to enter is staggering backwards, still alive, but the oxygen supplied by his action has accelerated the fire. Flames are now licking the façade from one of the ground floor windows, and the boy is screaming for someone.

"Don't freak out," Kakashi tells her. But this _is_ the time to freak out. She can't get them over there, the magic's not responding as it should. They'll drown before reaching the other side if they try swimming. And people are _dying_.

Before she can think anything else, Kakashi grabs her and lifts her up. She very nearly hexes him, except it probably wouldn't work like intended. He should have warned her, she thinks, then realizes he did. There can't be much weight difference between them, but he throws her over his shoulder like she's made of down. It's uncomfortable; his shoulder digging into her stomach and her head and arms flailing against his back. There is no time to voice her complains before Kakashi leaps.

Hermione screams. It's not something she's proud of, but he launches them out over the river and for a moment she is sure he'll kill them both. The he touches down. She can clearly see his foot pressing against the water, the surface tension somehow holding his weight, before he leaps again. A single step is ten feet at least, and two more of them is enough to get them across to the other shore.

An inarticulate sound makes it through Hermione's throat as Kakashi sets her down. She might have thought he could be magical, but magic cannot allow someone to walk on water. Especially without a wand. That's not how the world works. You can find ways to get across: Conjure boats, transfigure something into a bridge, levitate someone (or yourself), or maybe even turn the water into ice. Simply step on it? Not possible.

"Questions later." Kakashi uses her own words against her and she can't blame him, but she can't focus on anything else either. She wants to speak, even if she has no idea what to say, but a gust of wind throws the smoke their way. It stings in Hermione's eyes and lungs, heavy with the tang of plastics and dark enough to black the sun out. (And there's the Room of Hidden Things, burning around them, licking the hems of her robes, and, _**not now**_.) She can feel Kakashi grabbing her again, getting them out of the way. When they emerge from the smoke he's got the kid tucked under his other arm. The weight doesn't seem to bother him at all.

Placing his hands on the boy's shoulder Kakashi bends down to stare him in the eyes. "How many are inside?" he asks.

"Two," the boy answers. He can't be more than thirteen. There are tear tracks in the soot on his face. "My dad and my sister." His face and tone are suspiciously vacant. As if there's some kind of mind-magic going on. Hermione bites her tongue to not lash out. Later, she tells herself. Later.

"Where?" Kakashi questions.

"Probably upstairs. Dad was sleeping, room in the back." The boy's accent is heavy and his sentences incomplete, but it's more than Hermione hoped for. "Mía's room is the corner." He slumps under Kakashi's hands, and Hermione dives forward to guide him to the ground.

"What did you," Hermione's voice dies out as she looks up and sees Kakashi's hands coming apart. There's five of him now, four of which takes off towards the house. She watches them, two disappearing around the corner into the smoke while the other two run up the wall to the corner room window. Stammering, Hermione turns back to the Kakashi by her side. "What… That's... Who _are_ you?"

"Hatake Kakashi, Copy Ninja of Konohagakure," he answers, his casualness slammed like a shield between them. Hermione blinks, the sound of the fire turning to grey noise in her ears. People aren't supposed to make copies of themselves, or run on water, or walls. None of this makes any sense. "And you?" Kakashi asks, and Hermione knows from his too laid-back tone she needs to find her voice and answer.

.oOo.

"I'm a witch," Hermione says, her eyes wide, "but you can't be a ninja, ninjas are a myth."

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at her. "As opposed to witches?" he asks. One of his shadow clones releases in that moment, sending chakra rushing back to him with memories of painful heat and smoke in his lungs. Its companion rounds the corner, carrying the father over his shoulders. At first glance the man appears unharmed, but as he's put down on the ground Kakashi can tell he's not breathing right. Clone-Kakashi dissolves in smoke after checking his pulse, his consciousness merging with Kakashi's. It doesn't look good.

Another clone disperses, and the fourth one jumps from a window with a little girl in his arms. She's placed next to her brother, but as the last clone disappears Kakashi knows she's put under by genjutsu, not unconscious. He breaths out and relaxes his stance.

"Hey!" By her tone Hermione's tried to get his attention before. He's been a little busy, but he can see how it wouldn't look like it. When he looks at her she's rearranging the limp body of the father, rolling him to his side. There's a nasty-looking burn covering part of his arm and stretching across his shoulder, redness coloring the skin around it. Kakashi remembers the rush of heat as the first clone dissolved, the split second of difference between making it out the window and being too late. "Are they okay?" she says, "what happened to them?" The look she sends him is as sharp as a kunai.

Didn't he tell himself, only minutes ago, that this was a hornet's nest? And yet here he is, smack in the middle of it, Hermione's words the stings of invisible wasps. She clearly doesn't trust him, and why would she? He doesn't really trust her at the moment. The amount of lies between them is staggering. "The dad is unconscious," he says, keeping to the practicalities, "It was a close call to get him out in time. The children are fine; the girl had closed her door and was hiding under her bed. She was conscious when the clones found her."

"And now?" Hermione's eyes narrow. Maybe Kakashi should never have admitted to killing people, she might have looked at him differently then. He knows civilians can be weird with that sort of thing.

"Asleep, deeply. I'd rather you didn't wake them." His mission parameters clearly state he's not allowed to expose himself, and that's easier without witnesses. That said, Hemione shouldn't be here either. He had his chance to put her out before he crossed the river, but he hadn't. Instead, he'd picked her up and brought her along, protocol be damned. It's hard not to question that choice now, but there is no going back.

While they've been speaking Hermione has rearranged the girl as well. She moves back to the father and shrugs out of her backpack. "How long before the emergency services are here?" she asks as a first aid kit is placed on the ground next to her, small glass bottles clinking together as she takes them out. When Kakashi tells her it's at least ten minutes, one of the vials is uncorked. Something is dropped on the burn, and to Kakashi's astonishment it closes over, new skin forming over the wound. Healing isn't supposed to be that easy. A few drops from another bottle is poured into the man's mouth before Hermione packs up and stands. His breathing doesn't get much better, but a little color returns to his skin.

"That's all I can do," she says. With nothing left to occupy herself with she's practically vibrating, her pupils dilated as she stares at Kakashi. "I did civilian first responder classes after… Well, just _after_, but they're not much help when I can't cast spells." Another window blows out as the fire finds new energy. Hermione flinches.

The thought shunshining away resurface in Kakashi's mind. This is messed up. He shouldn't be here. He don't know how to do this. Any of it. Hermione knows about him now, and she's got some kind of erratic power she claims is magic. Everything is upside down, and while he has hidden parts of his life from her, he didn't think she'd done the same. At least not to this extent.

When Hermione first told him she'd spent a year on the run as a teenager, Kakashi figured she'd meant it in the civilian way. That she and her friends had been laying low in a cabin somewhere, bored and maybe scared, but _safe_. It was only yesterday he got any reason to question that assumption. To make matters worse, he remembers her saying long ago that several things happened. In plural. Like being tortured was not the only trauma in that year. Add the recent discoveries of witchcraft and healing tinctures to that and Kakashi has _no idea_ how to handle this. Running away seems like a valid choice. She's been lying to him, after all. Everything has been a lie.

A hand closes around his wrist, a small piece of his skin pinched where Hermione's forefinger and thumb meets. The grip is almost strong enough to hurt. "Don't you fucking dare leave me here," she hisses at him. "I'm about ten seconds from a major freak-out, and I'm not sorting this shit out alone. Okay?"

Kakashi looks at her, in the aftermath of her words. The hand holding him in place is nothing, it cannot restrain him. He could leave. He _should_ leave. And never come back. But if he does, everything leading up to this point will have been for nothing. Watching her now, the fire behind her tainting the tips of her hair orange, Kakashi knows it's already too late. It has been for some time. He doesn't want to. He wants them to be able to get past this. The realization is simultaneously a punch to the stomach and a softness spreading through his limbs.

_He doesn't want to leave._

He nods.

.oOo.

"You're telling me," the police officer says, "that you happened across a rubber boat, took that over the river, had the boy tell you where his family was before he fainted in your arms, found a ladder on the ground, and got them out without injuring yourselves? Oh, _and_ the father already had a large burn that was several days old? That his family somehow missed?" His accent isn't thick enough to hide the sarcasm as he repeats their agreed upon story.

"Exactly," Hermione answers, "we were really very lucky." The officer sighs. It's not the best plan they could have come up with, Kakashi thinks, but there hadn't been much time. Besides, the easier the better when you're supposed to keep your lies straight.

"I'll need your names, IDs, and contact information. And you shouldn't try to leave the country for the next couple of days." Kakashi bristles. He should put an end to this, it's both insulting and boring. Only, he's not supposed to be doing any jutsus and being uncooperative at this stage will not look great.

"Kakashi Hatake," he says, keeping to the order of names they use here. Behind the policeman the firefighters are hard at work, the smoke washed white with steam. An ambulance rushed the father off to the hospital a few minutes ago, and the other officer followed in the patrol car with the children.

"Okay Kakashi," the policeman juts something down in his notepad, "ID?" Kakashi takes a moment to meet the man's eyes before he slowly raises an eyebrow.

"They're in the car, officer," Hermione cuts in before Kakashi can answer. He arranges his eyes in a smile and wonders if she knew what was on the tip of his tongue. "I'm Hermione Granger."

The pen pauses on its way across the paper and the policeman slowly turns to Hermione. "_The_ Hermione Granger?" Kakashi does a double take; the officer's astonishment, the slight twitch of Hermione's hand even as she smiles. There's something here he's missed, and surely this day has had enough revelations by now. "Harry Potter's Hermione Granger?" The nameless man stares at her over the top of his glasses. Kakashi follows his gaze. There's a pink tinge on Hermione's cheeks but determination in her eyes.

"I wouldn't say I'm _Harry's_," she tells him, "I belong to no one but myself."

"Oh, er, of course," the officer reddens and scratches his neck, "I didn't mean to imply…" He offers his hand. "It's an honor to meet you." Hermione shakes it, and Kakashi is beginning to feel this is too much. He takes a slow breath to keep himself from showing all these people how fast he can get out of here.

"No worry," Hermione says, "are you?" she cocks her head instead of finishing the sentence. It's clear what she means. Great. Possibly another magic-user and Hermione's some kind of celebrity. And it's not even three o'clock in the afternoon.

"No, no, God no," the policeman answers, "But my niece is. You're her biggest idol, that's why I," he makes a wave with the pen. Hermione has told Kakashi about the Statute of Secrecy, and that must be the reason so little is said out loud. At least he knows now why she couldn't be honest with him. "Could I possibly trouble you for an autograph for her?" the officer says and Kakashi reigns in the impulse to stare at Hermione. This is not the time for him to appear confused.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Hermione says and accepts the notepad and pen. "What's her name?" She smiles, but it looks rehearsed to Kakashi, not quite like her real one. He doubts the officer can tell the difference.

Hermione scribbles down a short message, signs the paper, and tries handing it back to the policeman before agreeing to take a picture with it first. "It can't be made public," she tells him. The smile is still cutting through her face, but her tone is serious. "I hope you understand; there are some people who were never caught, and if I end up in the press or online they might come looking. You don't want these people on your doorstep, officer."

A chill runs through Kakashi, and it has nothing to do with the wind. Over the last two days he's found out she's been tortured, is a witch – apparently a famous one at that – and now there's an active threat? Does he know her at all? Kakashi keeps his face and posture impassive as the policeman agrees to her terms for the photograph. Shinobi doesn't show feelings.

"So," the man says, "you happened across a rubber boat, took that over the river, had the boy tell you where his family was before he fainted in your arms, found a ladder on the ground, and got the other two out without injuring yourselves. You were indeed lucky." This time there's no sarcasm, but he blinks at the end, sharing a secret. "Oh," he adds, "and I apparently forgot to get your names. How embarrassing of me." He chuckles and Hermione laughs with him, that faux smile back on her face. It wraps like an earth jutsu around Kakashi's ribcage.

.oOo.

They take the rubber boat back across the river. It's crowded, Hermione in the bow with the oars and Kakashi in the stern, their knees almost brushing together between them. It's impossible to board without tracking in water, and the inflated ribs in the bottom does little to keep their pants from soaking. Behind them the firefighters call out to each other. A creaking sound echoes across the valley and Kakashi turns around in time to see part of the roof folding in on itself. Sparks fly up like orange stars against the smoke before their light fades.

The ride is not long. Kakashi uses it to lean back as much as he can against the low hull and letting Hermione's hushed voice wash over him. She's speaking about the policeman, and whether him recognizing her was good or bad luck. As they scramble up the riverbank on the other side she moves on to some kind of magical theory that doesn't interest Kakashi enough for him to properly listen. There's a number of things he should be processing at the moment, and while his mind can't decide where to start with that; magical theory is right at the bottom of the list.

"I just don't get it," Hermione says as they walk back across the field. The sky is clearing, the sun showing small ash flakes sticking to Hermione's clothes and entangled in her hair. "You walked on water. How did you do that? You're not Jesus, are you?" She wiggles her eyebrows and smiles, but it's still the weird kind. Like she's stringing him along the way she did with the policeman. It's painful.

"Can't this wait?" Kakashi asks her. He's already shown her more than he should, he needs to figure out where to draw the line before having this conversation. Besides, they have a lot of more urgent issues to clear up between them.

The grin fades away and he can see her cheek muscles tensing up. "It can," she answers, "but I…" Her arms come up to wrap themselves around her torso as she stops walking and turns to Kakashi. After searching his eyes for a second, she looks down at their feet. "It's just. This smell puts me in a place that's really, really _not_ good, and I…" the breath she takes hitches. "When we get to the car, I need to be in a shape where I can drive us away from here, so I could use something to distract me until then. Okay?"

Kakashi watches her silently. He's been thinking her weird behavior was somehow about him, that it was a testament to how little he knows her. It makes him feel stupid now. She did say – way back when she convinced him to stay – that she was about ten seconds from a break-down, but at the time he'd been to full of himself to think much about it. He should have paid more attention. As he reaches out to touch her Hermione flinches away. Kakashi snatches his hand back and swallows, his throat thick and painful.

"Don't be nice to me," Hermione says, and her voice wobbles, "I'll fall into pieces if you're nice to me right now, and we need to get out of here. So please?"

Yesterday, reaching out to her had been right. Today, it's wrong. Kakashi has been a shinobi for long enough that he knows one set of actions doesn't necessarily give the same results in all situations, but usually he can tell why. The outcome of a specific technique would depend on who he is fighting, what strengths and weaknesses they have, and what is happening around them. Knowing why Hermione reacts differently now is harder, but maybe it could be evaluated by the same parameters. Not that it matters, for the here and now. She's stated what she wants, clearly.

"I believe you're asking the wrong question," Kakashi says, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging, "you can't start with how I walk on water." There's a tremble to Hermione's hand as she drags it across her hair, but her shoulders sink with her exhale and remains there.

"Yeah," she answers as she starts towards the car, "why is that?" Her tone isn't quite as normal as it pretends to be, but the small upwards twitch of her lips could be genuine.

"Because from what I've gathered so far," Kakashi answers, "the use of magic and chakra are vastly different. You've implied the magics here affects your ability to cast spells, which makes me think being a witch means you're a conductor for this magic that you speak about. Is that right?" Hermione agrees, her eyes wide as she stares at Kakashi. "That should in turn mean," he continues, compiling his observations, "that for example, using magic doesn't wear you out to any great extent. Since you are not the one supplying the power." Hermione is nodding, slowly, a thoughtful crease between her eyebrows. "Chakra, on the other hand, is an internal energy. Every living human produces it to some extent. Shinobi however, can mold it and use it outside of our bodies."

"Shinobi?" Hermione asks, and Kakashi realizes it's a new term for her. Explaining it, he knows he's made his choice when it comes to what to tell her. It might be brought on by a desperate need for distraction, and his inability to come up with something less revealing, but it's an exchange he can't regret. Because there's a new kind of danger here that he didn't know of, and teaching Hermione about chakra seems a fair deal if he can learn about magic from her. The details of Hermione's life is still unclear, but from what little Kakashi knows he's certain not all magic-users are the friendly kind.

.oOo.

Hermione has known Kakashi is intelligent. She has seen him pick up strategies and apply them to the boardgames they've played, and his remarks to her rambles are often thoughtful and relevant, if a bit uneducated. And maybe that's it; most things they've discussed so far has been things Kakashi knows little about. Things like mental health, information validation, social justice issues and technology have clearly not been part of Kakashi's life. Hermione has made the mistake of thinking that means he isn't the academic type. That he's strategic and smart but not a person who excels at abstract analytical thinking. Chakra theory, however, is clearly Kakashi's area of expertise. Hearing him explain its uses and limitations, answering Hermione's questions, and ask new things about magic in return, is intimidating in its sharpness.

She's clearly been wrong about him.

None of Hermione's friends are much for discussing the deeper layers of magical theory (apart from Luna but she is, well, Luna). Kakashi, while not able to cast a single charm or brew the simplest of potions, has grasped basic concepts about the nature of magic simply by watching Hermione in action and putting two and two together. Talking to him like this, having an analytical, logical conversation partner for abstract magical theory, should be a dream scenario. But instead of enjoying the subject, Hermione can feel it slipping away from her. There's a fuzziness growing in her head that doesn't allow for focused discussion. The smell is haunting her, and besides filling the air it also clings to her skin and hair and clothes in a way that means there will be no reprieve from it until she's showered and changed.

They reach the car, Hermione throwing her backpack in the backseat haphazardly before realizing she's on the passenger side. Great. That's a good sign. Kakashi tells her something about different elements from the trunk where he's digging through his bag, but his words hardly register. With a blank mind, Hermione rounds the car and settles in the driver's seat, staring at the dashboard in front of her. To say that bad memories linger on the edge of her mind is an understatement; it's more like it surrounds her thoughts completely. A single wayward step in any direction will put her there, so her mind shutting down could be considered a gift. If only she remembered how to drive.

Kakashi is silent as he slides into the seat next to her. Maybe he figured out that Hermione isn't really listening to him anymore. He's watching her now, an expression on his face that she thinks she should be able to decode. "I'm not being nice," he says, "it's a possible solution to a practical problem." His tone is weird, flat and controlled in a way that penetrates the fog, but it's meaning is lost on Hermione. She can't make herself care enough to analyze it.

There's a mask in his hand Hermione sees, a small piece of black cloth that spills out of his fingers as he holds it up. The question is asked only with his eyebrows, but she gets it anyway. "Thank you," she says as she reaches out to take it. The fabric is light and slippery under her touch, the kind used for swimming or exercising, and Hermione wants to cry. Swallowing, she reminds herself that there are more cars arriving across the river. Media might be coming. She's already been recognized once, it could happen again, and either way they might be interested in the first on scene, aiming cameras at them from afar. Having a breakdown in this fishbowl of windows is not a choice.

Intellectually, Hermione knows she's dissociating. She should try to reconnect, ground herself in the here and now. Putting on the mask she focuses as well as she can on the light pressure over the bridge of her nose, the way it hugs her chin and throat and externalizes the tightness she feels as she breaths. It smells of Kakashi, she thinks, that indescribable scent of human that lingers on everybody's skin in a slightly different way. Detachedly, Hermione wonders if he washes these in unscented laundry detergent or if it's been worn enough that the perfume has faded.

There's a limited window of time where she's desensitized enough to the stench of smoke that the new sensory input trumps it, and Hermione knows she needs to put it to good use. If she was more present Hermione thinks the intimacy of breathing in Kakashi's scent like this would hit her harder, but now it's little more than a dull knowledge and a temporary distraction.

Clutch to the left, Hermione reminds herself, break in the middle, gas on the right. Okay, she can do this. She starts up some music and turns the key. The full two-hour drive home might prove too much, but at least she can get them out of here.

It works for fifteen minutes before Hermione's stomach cramps up. She breaths through it, knowing she has another episode or two before urgently needing a bathroom. High levels of stress apparently still knock out her digestive system, even years after she started thinking she was fine. Being backhanded like this is unfair, she's supposed to have worked through her triggers.

Not five minutes later she realizes that the smell of smoke has begun to penetrate the mask. The way it mingles with the sense of Kakashi is nauseating, so she pulls the fabric down from her face. She is cold, especially where her wet pants touch her skin, and the heated car seat doesn't change that. Pain stabs through her stomach again, strong enough that she feels the chill of sweat breaking out on her forehead and sees her hands whitening around the steering wheel. There was a sign, not far back, about a guesthouse and she turns up their driveway. She needs a toilet, and a shower, and someplace to hide out for a while.

.oOo.

Kakashi gets them a twin room, the receptionist eyeing him curiously as she slides the key across the counter. Hermione stands two steps behind him, looking at a stand of brochures, with the mask pooling against her collarbones. No one has ever borrowed his masks before, or much of anything of his really. He has given stuff away without expecting them back, weapons mostly, but clothes feel personal in a way blades never do.

There had been a second, back in the car, when he very nearly changed his mind about the whole thing. He hadn't been sure if he was being nice or foolish, and he wasn't supposed to be the first and didn't want to be the second. She'd been slipping away from him steadily throughout their conversation, however, and the vacant look had spurred him on. The sheen in her eyes and the way she compulsively swallowed as she donned the mask told him all he needed to know about why she didn't want kindness. They had to get out of there after all.

The mask did seem to have make a difference, for a little while at least. It hadn't been the smoothest ride, but they'd been moving and that was all that mattered. Car rides, Kakashi has found, are the perfect time to gather his thought. The tones of some instrumental music had filled the air around them, and it was acceptable to stare blankly out the windows in silence. It was the better version of sitting at home staring at the unchanging views outside.

He still doesn't know what to think about it. Sometimes he comes close to relief, because he won't have to watch himself around her anymore. Other times, the need to run is so overwhelming he physically holds on to whatever's close by. He promised her he'd stay though, both back by the burning house with her fingers tight around his wrist, and just minutes ago outside this guesthouse. The shakiness had been back as she'd asked him not to be left alone, and Kakashi is still unsure whether that's an improvement or not. He'd nodded, either way, and shinobi doesn't go back on their words.

Besides, the only other option he can see is to go home and prematurely accept the Hokage hat, and that prospect is even more daunting than sorting out the aftermaths of this afternoon.

Hermione disappears into the bathroom once they reach their room. Kakashi wants to sink down on his bed, but given Hermione's sensitivity to the smell residing in his clothes he refrains. He settles on the wooden floor instead, legs crossed beneath him. Not only was his chakra woefully unbalanced between physical and mental today, he can also use a clear mind if he's to deal with any of this.

.oOo.

Sitting down on the floor of the shower doesn't seem sanitary so Hermione crouches instead, hugging her knees to her chest. The stench of smoke has washed away, leaving her tired and with the tightness of anxiety compressing her lungs. She feels like part of the world again, albeit a very numb part. Wishing she could cry isn't constructive, but she does it none the less. Wishes, that is, because no matter how she tries she can't make the lump rise from her chest to her throat and tear ducts.

The heat slowly chases the cold away. Hermione studies her toes as she rocks herself back and forth, chin resting against her kneecaps. It's like a universe on its own; her and the falling water in the small enclosed space. She can avoid thinking in here. Just breath in and out in sync with the rocking and feel the spray move across her back and shoulders. In another life Ron would have come in when she'd been sitting like this for long enough, making sure she was okay, but that's not who they are anymore.

In the end it's the insight that if she doesn't stand up now she might never find the energy to do it, that gets Hermione to her feet. Her sense of time is messed up, but the skin on her fingers is pruney and the bathroom is filled with steam.

.oOo.

Kakashi's hair is a nightmare to dry, so he carries a towel over his shoulders as he exits the bathroom. After the heavy humidity of the bathroom the cool air of their shared room feels like balm against his arms and shoulders. The combined mask and tank top he's wearing isn't clean, they were supposed to be home by now after all, but at least it doesn't smell like fire.

Hermione's seated on the bed against the bathroom wall. She has her comforter bundled up behind her and is hugging her pillow to her chest. Kakashi takes a seat on the edge of the bed under the window, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees. The tips of his hair have stared dripping and he uses a corner of the towel to squeeze out the water. He knows he should say something, but he has no idea where to start this conversation. Hermione would normally take the lead.

Things used to be easy between them, now it's anything but.

No more than three feet of air separates them, but the silence makes it feel like a bottomless ravine. They watch each other across the distance. Hermione shivers and thugs lose an end of the comforter to wrap around her goosebumped arms. Kakashi thinks about offering the blanket he's sitting on, but he doesn't know if he's still supposed to _not_ be nice. Yesterday he had believed he'd figured out the key for how to deal with these moments, but today is proving him wrong. Was it too much to get twenty-four hours feeling like he isn't a monumental screw-up when it comes to feelings?

"So," Hermione says, her eyebrows lifting. She places her cheek on top of the pillow.

"So," Kakashi agrees and shrugs. There's a miniscule twitch to the corners of Hermione's mouth and for the first time in several hours he thinks they may stand a chance to be alright after all. His urge to run has been quelled by the meditation, allowing him to be more present here and now.

"Where do we even start?" Hermione's voice is lacking its usual personality, like some part of her is left wherever it was she went earlier. Kakashi tries to tell himself that it'll be okay, she'll come back.

"I have no idea," he admits. Bending his neck forward to look at his socked feet allows Kakashi to scratch his neck. He sighs. Looking back up he realizes he does have a question to sort out before anything else. "This secrecy law," he says, "will it give us any trouble? Is there anyone coming for either of us?"

The comforter over Hermione's shoulders rustles as she shrugs. "Probably not," she says. Her eyes find the nightstand between the two beds before coming back to Kakashi. "As long as that boy didn't see anything we should be fine. Your powers should exclude you, and if they don't there's an exception for spouses." The grin she gives him is crooked.

"Well, I've heard we are sleeping together." Kakashi's smile is more real, but he exaggerates it slightly and wiggles his eyebrows. It's enough to raise the other corner of Hermione's mouth. Her eyes, however, remains distant.

"Do we have anything to worry about on your end?" Hermione asks him. "I know you said you weren't allowed to tell."

"Nah," Kakashi says, "I'll sort it out when I get back home, I'm in a good position to get away with going outside the mission parameters." Tsunade might yell at him, he knows, but there's not much she'll be able to do. He's needed for Hokage.

"Aren't the mission important though?" Hermione hesitates, and Kakashi can guess what will follow. "I mean you dad…" She looks away and draws her lower lip in between her teeth. He already knows the answer, of course, but can't say he's fond of the subject.

"Those who break the rules are scum," Kakashi tells her, carefully pronouncing each word, "but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum." She turns back to him, her face a little softer, and nods. He lowers his head minutely in response.

"Well," Hermione's tone is light, "I wasn't doing very well back there, was I?" This time her smile is the real deal, symmetrical and reaching all the way to her eyes.

"No," Kakashi says dryly, happy for the sideways slide to another topic, "I was becoming a bit worried you might blow yourself up next. I mean, what did that riverbank ever do to you?" He raises an eyebrow.

Hermione's huff of a laugh, small as it is, travels through Kakashi's limbs easing aches he wasn't aware he had. He wants _them_ back, the way they were yesterday. This tension between them is itching against his skin and turning his stomach heavy. The fear of loosing her has somehow become more acute than his aversion to situations like this. Having come to the conclusion that he doesn't want to run away, and that he wants them to get through this, is a kind of relief. It's also frightening enough to make his heart stutter. In less than five months he's needed back home, and his loyalty to Konoha will always come first.

"The things I've told you have been true," Hermione says, "just… censored." She leans her head back against the wall, sinking further into the comforter, and slowly fills her lungs. He can see her throat working as she swallows.

"Likewise," Kakashi tells her. He wishes this was in any way made easier by his decision to stay. It isn't. Trapping the sides of his tongue between his teeth Kakashi bites down far hard enough it almost hurts. If only he knew how to say things the right way.

"So, maybe we should start over?" Hermione says and lifts her head to look more fully at him. She blinks slowly and reaches up to rub her eyes. "I found out I was a witch when I was eleven and one of the teachers from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came to our house."

Going back through their respective histories takes time. Kakashi explains again how to become a shinobi, how they make a living, and their place in society. A lot of it is things he's mentioned over the last few hours, but he describes them with more depth and tries to keep a clearer narrative. He steers well clear of his own history however, and Hermione doesn't pressure him for details on it. Hermione herself, on the other hand, adds a lot of missing pieces to her relationship with Harry and Ron, and the year they spent on the run.

When she mentions a troll Kakashi thinks she is using a metaphor. Then there's a _dragon_, and apparently his face is priceless. At least that's what Hermione tells him when she's stopped laughing. He can see the sparkle in her eyes as she goes on to tell him that unicorns and werewolves are real as well, along with a bunch of weird creatures Kakashi's never heard of. Not until after the fact does he realize that daring her to prove it might have been a poor choice of words on his behalf, but he's saved by Hermione saying she doesn't have any ways to reach out to the Icelandic magical community. They're awfully secluded, Kakashi is told. All in all, he doesn't know what to believe.

Except for Voldemort. And her year on the run. He believes in those unwaveringly. An aching mass is growing in his chest as she tells him about the man who split his very soul into pieces, and how she and her friends went up against him. Hermione is supposed to be a civilian, she _is_ a civilian in too many ways. There had been no formal training for her and her friends, no knowledge of battle strategies, nor any more experienced soldiers to show them the way. They had just been thrusted into a violence they weren't prepared for. Kakashi can hear her scars in her voice as she speaks about it. Can see them in the way she shivers and tries to draw more of her comforter around her as she tells him about spells designed to cause maximum pain without physical injury. He does offer her the one from his bed then, and she takes it with a smile that's nothing more than a movement of her lips.

For Kakashi, who's been raised into violence and bloodshed and death, fighting an enemy fair and square with the possibility of a fatal outcome is par for the course. Even so, there are things he's done and losses he's survived that'll never leave him. Just this once, he might have preferred _not_ to understand the blankness that finds its way into Hermione's face as she speaks about one final battle to stand up against evil. She shouldn't know that feeling.

"You know," she says in the end, voice low and eyes turned away. "Most of my memories of the really bad stuff are hazy; Bellatrix's torture, the battle itself. But there was a moment, there in the middle, that's etched into my mind. Crystal clear. A few minutes when everything was quiet, and people where laying dead on the floors, and the air was heavy with blood and death and magical residue. I wish it was hazy, but it isn't. And everything smelled of smoke from my robes." She takes a trembling breath and leans her head back to look at the ceiling. "Today reminded me of that."

Kakashi has no idea what to say. Swallowing around the tightness in his throat he rests his forehead on his palm and buries his fingers in his damp hair, tugging it lightly. He knows what she means when she says a moment is etched into her mind. Can't help but think about when Haku stepped in front of his chidori, a mirror image of Rin so many years earlier. "Sorry," he finally manages, "I just… Let's say I know what you mean when you wish some things were hazy." The chill of the room is creeping up on him, making him shiver, but he gave away his comforter and he's not taking it back.

"Well," Hermione says, "it took me years to accept the fact that I'm missing some pieces, so I guess it sucks either way." In the silence Kakashi can hear the rustle of her moving. "I didn't mean to trigger you too, if that's what this is?" He shrugs. "Do you want to talk about it?"

The laughter that escapes him isn't joyous, nor is it lasting. "Do you actually have to ask?" He glances up to meet her eyes.

"Not really," Hermione says, "but I want you to know you can, if you ever want to." The words are soft, and her eyes unblinking as they catch Kakashi's.

"Noted," he tells her, "now can we move on?"

"Did you know, witch and wizards actually fly on brooms?" Hermione asks. Kakashi feels sure she's messing with him again, but when he says as much he's subjected to a recital of Hermione's flying classes at school. It helps keep his thoughts occupied with its sheer ridiculousness. Unfortunately, it doesn't ward off the drop in temperature.

Hermione calls him out on it, when he glances at his bag, wondering whether it's rude to stand up in the middle of a conversation to get a sweater. "You're cold," she says, lifting one end of his comforter. "And, I don't really feel like giving this back." The invitation is clear. It's also absurd; friends don't get into bed with each other, especially friends of the opposite sex. They are both dressed, of course, but only in tank tops and pants, and… Hermione interrupts his thoughts; "I'm letting cold air in here." She does something with her eyebrows, putting deep lines across her forehead and drawing one brow down over her eye. "I'm raising one of my eyebrows at you," she interprets. Kakashi can't help but smile, but he keeps it under his mask.

"No," he says, "you're not. If anything, you're giving me more proof you're deranged." To prove his point, he raises one of his own brows. It's a skill he's spent time learning, and he intends to use it.

"Then maybe you should do what the madwoman says?" Hermione gives him a strict look to contradict her the laughter in her tone.

And Kakashi folds. It's obviously the theme of this fucking day for him. He wants to say it's the antidepressants that's making him pliant, but he's not quite able to convince himself of that. Maybe he's just given up.

The nest Hermione's built does look cozy – and isn't that a word that Kakashi never thought he'd hear from himself. He's a trained killer, amongst the feared elite of shinobi, he_ doesn't do_ cozy. Just like he doesn't do hugs, a traitorous part of him whispers. But Hermione do. She probably thrives on cozy the way she does on hugs. He can suffer it for her. No one at home will ever find out either way.

.oOo.

Hermione almost feels bad as Kakashi slides into place next to her. He somehow manages to make the comforter behind them stretch out enough that he doesn't touch her. Deliberately repositioning herself to close the gap Hermione feels brazen as she leans her head against his shoulder. The feeling of another human so close soothes her frayed nerves, even if Kakashi's arm is cold and his shoulder bones dig into her cheek. For a moment she thinks he's about to tense up, but as she's about to draw back, he relaxes. There's shift under Hermione's head and the thump from something coming to rest against the wall.

"I'm sorry if I'm needy," Hermione says. She knows he's only stayed because of her, and while that warms her it also makes her feel guilty. He doesn't have to sacrifice himself for her. "If you want to leave that's okay. I'll be fine." Her words come off as too casual, she thinks. She doesn't want to drive him away. "I mean," she corrects, "I prefer if you stay, but I won't self-destruct if left alone, so you don't need to feel like you have to do this." It's close to rambling, her anxiousness to make it right hindering more than helping.

"Maa," Kakashi says, "haven't we had this discussion before? You can't keep me anywhere against my will." He falls silent for a second, and Hermione sees his words in the light of this day. "Can you?" he adds.

"That depends," she answers. In reality, she has no idea how he'd respond to spells could she cast them, or potions. "But I wouldn't. I'm not interested in manipulating people to like me." Kakashi only hums in response, the sound resonating in his ribcage and transferring into Hermione.

Breath, Hermione tells herself, out and in. You'll be okay again, it won't feel like this forever. The memories will fade, they have before. She just needs to get through this, find her way out on the other side. It's not the first time she's been triggered when she thought she was fine. The number to her psychologist is saved in her phone, she can call her tomorrow for a reminder-session. Her parents are always available, as are most of the people who fought alongside her at Hogwarts, she'd just prefer not to call them. She's already feels terrible about sending Kakashi to whatever dark place he disappeared to, there's no need to remind her other friends.

Exhaustion has spread throughout Hermione's body ever since showering, but her heart beats with the rhythm of constant vigilance. It's unreasonable, silly even, but she feels like she's back in that god-forsaken tent, knowing it's only a matter of time before someone catches them. Crying might help release some of the stress hormones, but she lacks the energy to do so. Instead she swallows and leans a little further into Kakashi's solid presence.

"I'm scared," she admits. The confession tenses her up, makes her want to curl up in a small ball and be held close. It also releases some of the pressure on her lungs. "I mean," she continues, voice small, "I know it's irrational to be more frightened today than yesterday, that it's only the hypervigilance of having the PTSD triggered, but I can't make it go away. I'm still scared."

Kakashi hums, and by the sound of it he's close to falling asleep. The day has taken a lot out of both of them. "But if you can't use your magic," he says, "surely they can't use theirs?"

"They could bring regular weapons, like guns or knives, or potions." She takes a breath, sits up straighter and wraps her arms around her knees. The wall over Kakashi's bed has a badly fixed hole in it, the paint covering it a different shade of grey from the rest. "Or just, you know, pick me up and carry me away. I'm decent at magical defense, and shielding, and I can ward my living space if I can cast spells, but here I'm just a normal, defenseless, non-magical girl. What if they figure that out? They could just kick in the door and grab me." She might not be very important on her own, but her relationship with Harry means the target on her back will never completely fade.

"Well," Kakashi says, "what makes you think I'd let them?" His voice is complete confidence, like it hasn't even occurred to him a bunch of people with guns could mean trouble. The sound of Kakashi's hair against the wall makes Hermione suspect he's turning to watch her. She means to speak, but her throat won't cooperate. Would he really take a stand for her like that?

"You might not have a choice," she manages. Kakashi laughs, the motion shaking Hermione.

"Magicless magicians with projectile weapons? They would be dead before they could step into this room." He speaks of killing people like it's a normal day at work and given his profession it probably is. _Mercenaries_ has been a word he's used to describe shinobi, and Hermione hasn't finished processing that alone. Figuring out how to feel about him killing people on her behalf is dizzying.

"How do you know?" Hermione asks. Because she wants to believe him, moral dilemma or not, wants to feel that absolute certainty that no one can get to her. But she was never one for blind trust. Staying focused on the opposite wall means Kakashi can only see part of her face, and Hermione closes her eyes and pulls her knees more firmly against the pillow she's hugging.

"This room has only two existing entry points," Kakashi immediately answers, "the door and the window. It's possible to blow out a wall, but even if they did it doesn't matter much. Given that they are trained professionals with knowledge of the room's layout, they'd still need to locate you, and react on that information. That gives me a second, probably two. More if they're civilians. Depending on the number of assailants and their exact positioning, those seconds could be enough to reach them with blades. That would be the easiest to get away with. If not, we are currently inside, and in a building that houses civilians, so I'd try to avoid fire, water or earth jutsus. I'm not an amateur. Lightning would probably serve me well, or possibly wind, but I'd have to move you out of the way before using anything with a wide range. That means the first second would go to creating a clone and get you out of here. After that, the clone would probably handle things easily, but either way we'd be standing safely somewhere up on the hillside. Should the clone be disposed of I could either send more or go back myself. They die. Problem fixed."

Hermione opens her mouth. Closes it again. Okay. Should she feel more or less relaxed after hearing that? Kakashi had spoken calmly and without hesitating once, and this is his job, she knows that, but still. "Er," she says, impressed against her will, "and you'd be able to analyze all of that, as well as acting, within that one second?"

Turning her head to look at Kakashi in the silence after her question, Hermione is met by a raised eyebrow and questioning folds across his forehead. "Yes," he says. By his tone he thinks the question is ridiculous. Hermione blinks.

"Okay, that's… wow," she shakes her head. "Where were you ten years ago? We could have used someone who knew what they were doing."

"Anbu Black Ops," Kakashi says, his eyes moving as far away from Hermione as possible without turning his head. There's a story there, Hermione thinks, but she bites back any questions. This aftenoon has had enough revelations.

"Well, I'm happy you're here now." Hermione takes the chance and shuffles a little closer, leaning more fully against Kakashi as she puts her head back on his shoulder. He's a remorseless killer, who recently stated he'll kill for her without hesitation, and self-disgust settles like a tumor in her chest. If she feels safe with him at her side, if his warmth against her skin and his scent in the air she breathes eases her hypervigilance, if this can feel good even after – or worse: _because of_ – everything she's learnt about him; what does that say about her?

Compared to the anxiety already festering inside her it makes surprisingly little difference. Today has already brought up enough blood and gore and death that some more hardly matters in the grand scheme of things. The same goes for questioning her own actions. Thinking of Kakashi at least spares her from wondering how things might have changed had she done this instead of that, and if less people could have died had she only… And no, she's _not_ going back down that track. Back to the subject at hand.

In the end, it's all theoretical exercises. Hermione knows Kakashi has killed, will probably kill again, but she can't internalize that knowledge. She's aware of the facts, but she can't feel the truths. And it doesn't help she knows she's supposed to be the logical one.

As the stress hormones in Hermione's system slowly recedes tiredness takes over. She feels like she's been thrown into a tumble dryer for hours on end and she wants it to stop. Hemione longs for the nothingness of sleep, and a picture of Grumpy Cat pops up in her brain, telling her it's like death without the commitment. She wouldn't mind not living in this world for a little while. The moral ambiguity of enjoying Kakashi's company and wanting him around won't go away, and neither will her memories from the war, but she could at least escape them for a little while.

.oOo.

It's not even six o'clock yet, and much too early to call it a night. They still need to deal with dinner, and the fact that they're expected home in a few hours, but none of those things are urgent. Hermione sits closer to Kakashi than what should be possible without being on top of him, her legs drawn up and her toes dug in between Kakashi's thigh and the mattress. Not long ago she'd been tense and scared, afraid someone might come for her. Now he can feel her breaths slowing and her body twitching as she falls asleep. The implied trust is shattering.

The day has drained Kakashi in more ways than one, and his weariness is bone deep. He never knew how relaxing it is to have someone sleep pressed up against him like this. It's not really something that's happened to him before. The hugs Hermione has given him had similar effects, but the sheer bonelessness of Hermione as she leans against him now is hard to elude. Their safety would not be jeopardized if he were to allow himself to drift off lightly. It hardly sets his reaction time back at all. Resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes Kakashi lets the rhythm of Hermione's breathing drag him down into oblivion.

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AN: Oh my god, I've been wanting to write this chapter for such a long time. It's been impossibly hard and incredibly fun, and now it's finally done. Please let me know what you think!


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Wow! Thank you all so much for your response on the last chapter! It made me incredibly happy and gave me a lot of motivation. Due to life I haven't managed to respond to your comments individually yet, but I hope to get to it soon. In the meantime, know that I love you all and that you are my heroes who are helping me keep up with this.

As for this chapter, it took a lot longer than I had thought. Things sucked at worked to the point where I quit about two weeks ago, and since then I've been exhausted and resting up. I feel much better now, and have come back to writing, but it's summer and I've got some travelling planned over the next few weeks, so we'll see when I can update.

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Hermione's hand is stopped in the air, the fingers holding it loose but as unrelenting as a vice. The backlash of kinetic energy travels through her arm, threatening to put her out of balance, but Kakashi's other hand is already at her shoulder steadying her. After the big reveal a few days ago she'd thought there'd be some kind of noticeable difference, that he wouldn't bother to reign in the small things around her, but this is the first time she even gets a glimpse of his speed and strength since the fire. It's restrained enough that if she hadn't known, she'd written it off as good reflexes and hours working out.

Since they came home they've been left in a weird limbo between knowing each other well and not at all. Sometimes, everything's been normal between them, with the addition of being able to discuss things like magical theory and how it differs from chakra. Other times, there's a crevasse between them so deep Hermione can't imagine reaching out over its edge. The frailty of the situation is eating her alive.

"You're about to cut yourself," Kakashi says as he releases her hand.

"Yeah?" Hermione turns to eye the glinting kunai between them, "why?" Annoyance shoots through her and she can hear its edges in her voice. He could at least explain himself if he's going to startle her like that.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow at her and puts his hands in his pockets. "The angle of the kunai in your hand is wrong," he says. "Combined with the position of your head you will most likely cut your cheek."

"How do you know?" Kakashi's other eyebrow joins the first and he dips his head forward to accentuate the look. Right. He doesn't need to be so patronizing about it, just because she's learnt more of what he can really do. There's no difference Hermione can see between this would-be-throw and the last one. And the last one might have been a disaster performance-vice, but the only thing harmed had been her ego. It's highly unfair she's worse at throwing kunai the second time around. "So, what should I do instead?" she asks, her jaw taut around her words.

"Focus." There's a barb in the dryness of Kakashi's answer, and it stings as it reaches Hermione.

"I _am_ focusing," she says. The anger isn't red, nor is it white-hot. It is clean; its transparency washing away the fog of worries and tiredness festering inside her. Kakashi being impossible is a problem she can deal with, as opposed to all the other disasters circling her.

"No, you're not." Kakashi's eyebrows draw together. "You're better than this."

"What if I'm not, huh?" Hermione throws up her hands, the kunai still in a tight grip. She _has_ been trying, she really has, but apparently she's not meeting his standards.

For a second nothing happens. Kakashi stares at her, and Hermione meets his look every step of the way. She will not be the first on to back down when he's the unreasonable one. When he breaks the eye contact it's not the way she expected. Moving his focus to the kunai he plucks it from her hand before she can react and walks over to collect the four she's already thrown, stringing them back together.

"What are you doing?" she asks as he ties the cord off, "we're practicing."

"Not anymore, we're not." There's a stiffness to Kakashi's words, but he pushes his hands back into his pockets and shrugs like he doesn't have a care in the world. He would scold Hermione for resting the blades against her leg like that, but different rules must apply to him. When he reaches Hermione's side he doesn't stop but keeps walking back toward the house.

"So, the second I can't live up to your expectations you just leave? Is that what this is? I'm not good enough to waste time on?" Hermione is one step away from shouting, but she reigns it in. A cool sensation is spreading through her body, narrowing her eyes and clenching her fists. She wishes she could hex him. Show him she's _not_ _useless_, thank you very much.

Kakashi pauses and then turns around, face impassive. He blinks slowly. "No," he says, "your skills are just fine. It's your attitude I'm walking away from, because whatever this is? I'm pretty sure I don't deserve it."

Watching the rigid lines of Kakashi's shoulders as he makes his way back towards the house, Hermione grunts. He's too scared to even have a fight with her, isn't he? Probably because he knows she's got a point. He was being completely unreasonable, butting in with unwanted advice and… oh.

Shit.

.oOo.

Kakashi hears Hermione call out to him, can tell she's coming up behind him, but he doesn't stop. He has no idea what just happened, and he has no particular wish to find out. All he'd done was stop her from injuring herself, and if this is the thanks he received she is not mature enough to handle sharp objects. He'd thought she'd liked throwing practice the first time they did it, but maybe he'd misunderstood.

"Wait," Hermione says as she ducks around him to stand in his path, "just _wait_." She holds her hands out, as if the gesture would somehow stop him from rounding her. Kakashi doesn't sigh, he will not give her that, but keeps his expression neutral and meets her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Hermione says, her eyes wide. "Please just hear me out? I don't want to make excuses, okay, but I want to explain, because you're right, I shouldn't have gotten angry, it was uncalled-for." She takes a gulping breath to make up for the long string of words.

"It was." Kakashi sidesteps her and continues on his way. He doesn't need her explanation, he already knows. She's been oscillating between drawing him in and pushing him away over the last few days, ever since she found out about him being a shinobi. He would have thought his lies would have been negated by her own, but clearly, she is upset with him. The refusal to acknowledge it must come from the fact that she needs him around to protect her.

As used as Kakashi is to be kept around because of his skills, it's different when it's Hermione doing it. Nauseating.

"You can't just leave," Hermione says behind him. Like he is the unreasonable one.

Tension settles over Kakashi's shoulders and down his back, then spreads like a prickle down his arms. His entire body is poised and ready to move, but he bites down on his tongue to keep his cheek from visibly moving and turns slowly. Shinobi doesn't show emotions. "I can," he says, keeping his voice level, "and I will." Hermione's mouth falls open and she stares at Kakashi. He doesn't care enough to try to differentiate whether it's surprise, fear or anger she feels. It will not change the outcome either way.

"Don't worry," he tells her instead, "I'll still keep you safe." Because no matter how much Kakashi's stomach aches from the reality of the situation, he knows he will continue to do his job. There is no world in which he will allow her to be hurt. Even if she no longer likes him.

"I… what?" Hermione's eyebrows draw together and her head twitches back. She heard him, Kakashi knows she did, and this is not a conversation he's having. He turns to walk away. "No," the hand that lash out to grab his arm would be child's play to avoid, and the grip it gets on his jacket can be broken without any effort. "No, no, no," she repeats in quick succession. "Stop." The words are harsh, cutting through the wind with force instead of precision. His unchecked response to her attempted physical restraint flitters past Kakashi's mind as he squashes it. Hermione is lucky they're not in the Elemental countries.

Raising an eyebrow Kakashi swallows down the boiling feeling inside him. He itches to fight, to do taijutsu sparring with Gai until every part of his body hurts and he tastes blood in his mouth. Not that will ever be a possibility again. He shifts his stare from Hermione's eyes to the hand pretending it can hold him in place, and Hermine draws it back. There is nothing he can say.

"Is this about the magic?" Hermione asks as he moves to leave. Her voice has shrunk, and she sucks her lower lip in between her teeth. The charade is getting tiresome.

Shinobi doesn't show emotion, Kakashi reminds himself. Over the space of an inhalation he makes sure he has it all under control; his shoulders and arms held casually, hands in pockets, jaw in place, forehead smooth, eyes relaxed. He blinks slowly. "No," he says, but doesn't offer anything else. He doesn't want to see the lie painted on her face as she denies the truth.

For a second Hermione stands silent, lip caught between her teeth and eyes narrowed. The sun finds a crack in the clouds and lights up a part of the field behind her. Kakashi should walk away. Nothing is stopping him.

"I haven't been my best self these last days, have I?" Hermione says, and it's a trick question if Kakashi's ever heard one. There is no way he will risk maneuvering through that minefield. Hermione glances at the cows grazing on the hillside. "I'm sorry," she says as she turns back to him, "I didn't mean to take it out on you." She rubs a hand over her mouth and chin, and Kakashi's throat tightens.

Wasn't he supposed to feel less like a mess by now? He doesn't remember conversations ever being this physically painful before.

"Anxiety and stress just make me irritable, and that's not and excuse, I'm not saying it is, but it's an explanation. Okay? And I shouldn't let it affect you, and I know it's stupid of me, but half the time I can't breathe right because I'm so anxious and the other half I'm terrified someone will come for me, and somewhere between those two I guess I fail at being a decent human being. Which makes it _worse_, actually, because then I have to feel bad about that too." Hermione shrugs and shakes her head, before looking first up at the sky then down on her feet.

"Logically," she says, "I know what happened triggered my PTSD – that I thought I was done with by the way – and that it means I'm in fight or flight-mode, which by nature is a self-centered state because my brain is trying to ensure my survival. It's just so fucking stupid it makes me push people away when I need them the most. Like being rude to you because I'm panicking because I'll never get this kunai-thing right and I'm defenseless. And I know things is still a bit strange, and that we need to get to know whole new parts of each other's lives, so it shouldn't need to be a thing. I'm just way too tired to think straight, because I can't sleep, because I'm way too tired to think straight, and isn't that just hilarious?"

Hermione falls silent and Kakashi tries to wrap his mind around what she said. It was a lot, and not very easy to follow, but none of it seemed insincere. He doesn't know what anxiety is, and he has never been indirectly frightened for his security, but he thinks he can relate to being angry and pushing people away. He had done that a lot, for a long time. And Hermione is right; they do have plenty left to process, both of them, and before they have things will feel different.

There is, however, one thing that doesn't make sense to him. A practical, straightforward issue that lets him avoid figuring out how he feels about the rest of it. "It doesn't matter that you are defenseless," he tells her, "I'm not."

The laugh that escapes Hermione is far from happy. Kakashi doesn't know what he did wrong, but there's a suspicious sheen in her eyes when she meets his gaze. "But you don't like me when I'm like this," she says, and her right hand comes to rest on her left elbow. "I don't blame you, I don't like myself very much at the moment."

Talking to Hermione is a bit like fighting Tobi had been, back when he was still an unknown. Just as Kakashi thought he had things pinned down everything changed; weapons slipped through his target without leaving a mark and you never knew which direction the next attack would come from. A minute ago, Hermione was angry with him, then it _wasn't_ about him, and now the problem is that _he_ doesn't like _her_? With Kakashi still convinced she's only staying for the sense of security it shouldn't matter, but he finds it does. It matters a lot. He rubs his neck with the kunai-free hand and decides he's had enough of all this pretense. Better rip the bandaid off all at once. "It's you who don't like me," he says, carefully keeping his voice neutral.

"What?" Hermione's question is so immediate and honest Kakashi can't help but answer.

"It's you who don't like me," he repeats as he shrugs. "You don't have to pretend. It's not like I'd let armed forces take my other neighbors." Saying it feels like falling off the side of the Hokage mountain; not painful in itself, but with the ground rushing up to crush him. It makes it hard to breath.

"Jesus fucking Christ Kakashi," Hermione says. It's impossible to tell if she's laughing or crying, the palms of her hands wet from where she's pushed them into her eyes. Kakashi can't move, not even to turn his face away before the awaited rejection. "You think I only want you around because of what you can do?" It's not a bad thing, what she says, but it hits Kakashi like a kick over the ribs, knocking his wind out. He looks away but locks every other reaction down. A cow walks over to the waterfilled bathtub by the fence, her udder dangling with every step. Hermione always feels without inhibition, Kakashi thinks, she both cries and laughs easily, and for a second he wonders what that's like. Everything inside him mostly feels hollow and sore.

"Shit," Hermione says when it's apparent he doesn't plan to answer. "Fuck. Okay, that's…" In the corner of his eye Kakashi sees her rub her face. "Sorry for the profanities, I'm just... Fuck." She shakes her head. Kakashi's chest remains paralyzed. "For your information: You're wrong if you think that, okay? I like you, and I want to hang out with you, and that's because of who you _are_, not what you can do. Can you believe that?"

A nod is required, so Kakashi obliges. He's not sure what to believe, or what to think. It feels like the whole world is spinning around him. Shinobi does not show emotions, but that is easy when his mind is this blank. She likes him, she says, but how is he supposed to _know_?

"For your information," Hermione says, far away, "I could solve part of my problems by going back home to my heavily warded apartment where I can use magic to defend myself, but I'd rather not. It doesn't matter that I might feel safe enough to sleep there. Because you are _here_." There's a pause Kakashi can't interpret, and when Hermione starts speaking again it's at a lower volume. "I'm really sorry I am fucked up enough to make such a mess of everything."

Thinking about Hermione's answer in its entirety is impossible. It echoes back and forth through Kakashi's empty brain accompanied by too many failures. He latches on to the practicalities of the conversation instead, disassembles Hermione's words to reach a problem he can understand. She can't sleep, she said, and Kakashi knows from experience how that can spiral out of control. After... _No_, he's not going there. _Hermione_ is too worried about her safety to sleep, that's the issue to focus on.

The memory of sliding in under the blanket next to her in the hotel room surfaces in Kakashi's mind, and the ghost-sensation of her breathing slowing by his side. Turning to her now, he ignores the painful tightness in his chest. "You slept at the hotel, didn't you?" he asks, and the question puts a confused wrinkle between Hermione's eyebrows.

"Yes," she says. Kakashi is grateful her answer is, for once, short enough not to derail the conversation.

"Because I was there?" The way Hermione's mouth opens and closes as she tries to find an answer is all Kakashi needs to confirm his thesis. She still nods not a second later. "So, if I was around now, could you sleep?" He receives another nod. "Why not just ask?" Hermione blinks at the question, and Kakashi knows this is not the direction she predicted for this conversation. That makes two of them.

"Er," she says, turning her face down and away but with her eyes still on Kakashi. "I didn't want you to feel obligated?" She pushes her lips together and pulls them up enough to put creases on the bridge of her nose. "Or like I only wanted you around for your skills?"

Instead of laughing Kakashi raises an eyebrow. "And this is better?" he asks, motioning with his hand at the whole situation. Hermione smiles at his dry tone and his breathing becomes less forced.

"Well," she says, "it's not like you have monopoly on unnecessarily trying to deal on your own. I hate how we're all taught to be strong and not burden others, but that doesn't mean I'm raised differently." She shrugs and makes a disarming gesture with her hands.

"Is that why you still haven't asked me?" Kakashi can't help but needle her. He knows she can read his smile through the mask. There are huge chunks of this conversation he hasn't even begun to think about, that will take time to sink in, but right now he can pretend they don't exist. In this moment things can feel normal, and he clings to that.

"Hatake Kakashi," Hermione says with laughter in her voice and eyes, but an embarrassed tinge over her cheeks, "will you sleep in the unused master bedroom tonight?" A small courtesy follows the question, and Kakashi can understand the need to turn such a request into a joke. Some things are too serious to be treated as important.

"Maa," he says, "I'll take the couch." There's something private about other people's bedrooms, and he doubts he'd be able to relax in the bed of a couple of strangers.

Hermione tries to change his mind, even offering her own bed to him while she takes the couch, but Kakashi refuses. He's slept in far worse places in his life.

They split up for their afternoon chores not long after that, and before returning Kakashi picks up what he needs for the night. Sunna is practically leering when she catches him collecting his toothbrush, but he can't make himself care much. It's not like it matters what people here think.

Before bedtime there's boardgames and tea as the sun sinks just below the mountains. There are no blinds in the living room, and Kakashi makes up the couch in the half-light while Hermione brushes her teeth. As he puts the cover on his borrowed duvet Hermione comes to stand in the doorway. She's changed into the shorts and oversized t-shirt she wears for pajamas, and something in the way she holds herself makes her look devastatingly vulnerable.

"I could have done that," she says as he shakes the duvet out and places it on the couch.

Kakashi shrugs. "I'm quite able to make my own bed," he tells her, "it's not very complicated."

"Yeah." She fiddles with her fingernails for a few moments before looking up at Kakashi. "Thank you," she says, then clears her voice before continuing. "For this."

"No problem," Kakashi says automatically, only to feel stupid about his answer. However, it's too late now to say something more personal. Fact is, he feels more at ease in Hermione's house than he does at Heimstaðir, even if he's sleeping on the couch and she is unstable and irritable. He wishes he knew how to tell her that.

Hermione smiles at him, small but sincere, and Kakashi imagines she can hear his thoughts. She scratches the back of her head. "Will you let me know?" she asks, "if I get insufferable? Because I'm trying not to take it out on you, but so far I think I've failed more than succeeded." She looks out the window between them, but Kakashi nods none the less. He could have lost her today, all because of a string of stupid misunderstandings and failed communications.

"I'll try," Kakashi tells her. It's all he can promise. "It did prove quite constructive today." He folds his eyes into a smile, and it's the real kind that reaches his lips. There might be hope for him after all.

"It did," Hermione confirms. "I'm glad you called me out. Sometimes you're too close to yourself to see what's going on you know?" Kakashi thinks he does, so he nods. Hermione yawns and crosses her arms in front of her. "Either way," she says, "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night," Kakashi answers before grabbing his pillow and pillowcase.

Hermione ducks into her room, but Kakashi can see the door is left ajar from the ray of light cutting across the hallway floor. It doesn't disappear as her bed creaks and her sheets rustle. Going to the bathroom Kakashi makes sure to keep his eyes in front of him, not wanting to be mistaken for spying. Despite having spent a night in a shared hotel room, he feels it's not proper to sleep without a closed door between them. That one night had been an exception due to special circumstances, and apart from a nap in the afternoon they'd both kept strictly to their respective sides. Yet, if nations can declare states of emergency to step away from their laws, maybe it's not such a big deal for this exception to last a few more days.


	19. Chapter 19

AN: New chapter already! This one is short, and the next one will be even shorter, but they can both stand on their own, so I figured I might as well post them separately and give you all something to read. I hope to have the next one up in the first half of next week, before I go travelling. In the meantime, I'd love to hear what you think!

* * *

Having Kakashi around makes things better, but better doesn't necessarily mean _good_. The fear and anxiety are easier to live with when Hermione's not alone, when she can tell herself that Kakashi is right there if anything happens, but they don't go away. The first night she gets up twice to check that Kakashi is still there. Both times he opens a single eye to look at her, and she apologizes and slinks back to her room. She never meant to wake him, and while his awareness is reassuring it also means she forces herself to remain in bed the following nights. What sleep she gets is filled with dreams she can't remember, but which leave her with a bad taste in her mouth and a tight, itchy feeling crawling across her skin when she wakes.

She calls her therapist, because while she knows 'there's no way out but through' she wants to hear it from someone else. She needs Linda to tell her there is an end to all this, that she's done it before and can do it again. That there will come a time when she feels safe again.

"Do you have someone there who you can talk to?" Linda asks her, and Hermione looks out the window, catches a glimpse of sliver-white hair and a figure running across the mountainside. "Good," Linda says after Hermione confirms, "then talk to him. Let him help you. And remember it's okay to feel what you are feeling, it's perfectly normal that this happens, and you can get through it. Alright?"

Hermione's throat stocks up, and she's crying as she tells Linda about taking it out on Kakashi. After years of sessions with the woman Hermione can hear the kind smile in her voice as she reassures her. Kakashi did the healthy thing and confronted her, and that's a good sign, Linda says. It's enough to stop Hermione crying for several seconds, because he did, didn't he? He didn't simply leave her behind and move on. It had been a roundabout discussion, but they'd gotten there in the end. He'd done _that_, for _her_, even when she was rude to him, and the realization opens the floodgates once more. Merlin, she's a mess, isn't she? But maybe that's okay, for a while.

Over a week passes, and Hermione starts to believe she's getting the hang of it. Spurred on by Linda's advice Hermione tells Kakashi when it's bad and asks for hugs when she really needs them. She doesn't want to impose too much, however, because Kakashi is not the touchy-feely kind and he is doing a lot as it is. Not only is he helping her with kunai practice; when she confesses to fearing getting grabbed, Kakashi takes it upon himself to show her how to break holds and manipulate joints. Small things only, because Hermione will never be one for close combat, but enough that she feels she'd stand a chance against someone stronger than her.

It feels a bit like cheating, dealing with her insecurity by learning to fight, but Linda tells her she's allowed to cheat.

Good moments start to trickle back in over the days. Amazing moments. Set in stark contrast by the darkness around them. Like when she stands in the sunshine and cheers for her first bullseye with the kunai, and Kakashi smiles at her before ordering her further away from the target. Or when she gets so caught up in discussions about magic and chakra she forgets everything else. It was a long time since she had intellectual fun the way she can with Kakashi when the subject is right.

Things do get better overall as well, with a little time. Hermione laughs easier, sleeps better, and begins to relax ever so slightly. Maybe she should have seen the backlash coming, but she doesn't. Instead, she falls asleep after an evening of tea and reading and wakes a few hours later with bile on the back of her tongue, cold and shaking. She can't remember the dream, only that there were ash and blood in the air, and that she failed. A picture of Kakashi flash by, crumpled on the floor, and the echo of his voice blaming her. Hermione can't breathe.

The sheets are crushing her, and she pushes them away, fights her way to her feet. She has to check on Kakashi, because it might have been a dream, but she needs to know for sure. Either way, she needs to save him. Three steps to get to the door. Breathe. Five steps down the hallway. Everything inside Hermione is tight and frozen, and her pulse resonates in her fingertips as she trails them along the wall.

Kakashi must see something on her face, because as she stops in the doorway he sits up, faster than any regular human. The windows are behind him, but the room is light enough she can see the tension on his face. "What's wrong?" he says, already at his feet.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asks, foregoing his question for the more important one. Her voice comes out raspy and twisted, and she forces down a breath deep enough to allow her to cough. Kakashi pauses a few feet from her, the glint of a blade in his hand. He cocks his head.

"Yes," he says, "why…" The question is cut short and something in his face softens.

"You have to go." It comes out as a sob, and Hermione hugs herself. She must continue however, no matter how painful speaking is. It's important. "You _can't_ be here. Get away from me. They will kill you."

For a second, she thinks he will comply. Kakashi stands stock still, silent, watching. His eyes narrow the way they do when he's trying to figure her out, then he reaches out and places the blade on a sideboard. He steps towards the door, but as he does his eyes aren't on the exit. They're on Hermione.

She looks away.

Kakashi doesn't stop. She sees it from the corner of her eye and feels the displacement of air as he moves into her personal space. Without visible hesitation arms wrap around her, soft but unyielding. It's always been Hermione who has initiated physical contact, but Kakashi pulls her in now, draws them together from knees to shoulder, close and warm and safe. She gives herself a moment. Puts her arms around his waist and rests her forehead against his collarbone. She's crying too hard to speak anyway.

"You can't do this," she tells his shoulder when she has calmed enough she feels confident in her voice again. "I won't let you. _You could die_."

She should push him away but can't make herself. Under her eyes, tears have soaked thorough Kakashi's combined tank-top and mask, and she thinks it must be cold and sticky against his skin. As if she doesn't have enough to feel bad about, waking him in the middle of the night like this. He hums, the sound reverberating through her ribcage.

"I _will_ die," he says. "Everybody dies. But I doubt this is how it happens." He speaks so calmly it turns Hermione's stomach

"What if it is though?" she challenges. Despite her sore throat and malfunctioning lungs, she manages to put steel in her voice. "You can't take that risk. _I_ can't take that risk. I can't have you risk your life for me." She's repeating herself, she realizes, but she can't bring herself to care. The point is important enough it can stand repeating. The thought of him stepping between Hermione and a loaded gun makes her want to throw up. It can't be allowed to happen.

"Hm," Kakashi says. "Well, it's my life to risk, so I'm afraid you don't have much say in the matter."

"You _can't_." Hermione can hear she lost what power she had and is left sounding like a petulant child.

"I can," Kakashi tells her, "and I will. I've risked my life for my village and my friends since I was five, and I'm not about to stop now."

"But…"

"No buts," he cuts her off, a sharpness in his tone that quiets Hermione instantly. "It's not your choice to make."

Hermione's nose is clogged up and she breathes in the salt of tears on her tongue. Closing her eyes, she tries to absorb some of Kakashi's strength. "Okay," she finally says, her voice hardly carrying. He made it clear it's not up for discussion, and she can't find the will to fight. If it ever comes to it, she will simply have to make sure to be the one to go.

Outside the window the sun is about to rise. A desperate need to blow her nose is overtaking Hermione, but she's afraid to end the hug. It feels like Kakashi's arms is the only thing holding her up, and if she leaves now he might go back to bed and this will be lost. Carefully dislodging one arm she wipes her face inside the neckline of her t-shirt instead. It's not enough, not really, but at least she doesn't have to worry about smearing snot on Kakashi. He hugged her, this time, and that matters. It changes everything, not having to wonder if it's simply a concession to avoid the awkwardness of turning her down.

As the tranquility of the hug loosens Hermione's limbs and slows her pulse she occupies her mind with the exchange. It's impossible to figure out how Kakashi can be so calm about his possible demise. She understands he's been living with the idea for a long time, but…

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" she gives in and asks. Drying tears are itching on her cheeks.

A small shift makes her think Kakashi dipped his head forward, and she can feel how his breathing gets more measured. The silence stretches to the point where she doesn't think he'll answer at all. "No," he says softly. It's only the beginning of a long string, and Hermione aches to thug it and see where it leads, but she doesn't. She draws him in a little closer instead, lets the scent of him find the unclogged passages in her nose.

"Do I have to worry about that?" She trusts him to understand the question.

He huffs before answering. "No," he says, and his tone is certain enough to put her at ease. "The only thing you have to worry about is us getting more sleep before we need to get up." A finger taps against Hermione's shoulder blade and she sighs.

"Is it okay if I take one of the armchairs," she asks as she breaks the hug. "I'd rather not be alone." Heat rises to her face and she looks away.

"Take the couch," Kakashi offers, "I can sleep on the floor."

Hermione can't help but snort and push his shoulder. "Don't be a self-sacrificing asshole," she says.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow before he speaks. "I prefer gentleman." The words are as dry as dust.

"Haven't you heard?" she questions." Those fell out of fashion years ago." Before he can answer Hermione walks away to collect her comforter and pillow. She can't quite smile, not yet, but she can feel her facial muscles relaxing.

Pulling the two armchairs together Hermione creates a nest for herself. She curls up in it, wrapped in her comforter, and it's not bad. Short, and her back will punish her for that tomorrow, but better than her bed in an empty room. Inside her, the tsunami of emotions has withdrawn, but a chaotic sense of dread remains. Kakashi might die for her, and there's nothing she can do to change that. Save making him hate her and thus leave, but that is unthinkable. She closes her eyes and focus on breathing. There is no sound from Kakashi, but he is right there if she opens her eyes.

.oOo.

Kakashi lies awake for a long time. There's a warm fuzziness inside him, and he doesn't want to fall asleep and risk losing it. He wants to remain like this for as long as possible. He's turned towards the backrest of the couch, hiding his face even if his eyes are closed. Behind him he can hear Hermione's breathing slow into the rhythm of sleep.

For once, he did things right. Without needing to be told what to do. It hadn't even been hard once he figured out what was going on. Hugging her has become a gut reaction by now, but normally he lets her ask for it, not wanting to impose. Tonight, overstepping on whatever rules apply to friends hugging each other without consent had seemed less important. And it hadn't turned out wrong. He'd even managed to respond to her ridiculous, nightmare-induced ideas about him being better off without her. Like he'd be unaware of the possible consequences of every mission. Kakashi knows he might not die from old age, but he also knows he could never live with letting more friends die in his place. Not if there is anything he can do to stop it.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: My vacation got delayed a few days, so here is another chapter before I leave. This one is very short, but the next one should be longer. During my travels I should have internet on my phone, and while I can't write I hope to be answering comments. No promises though, because I'm going to Lofoten in Norway, and cell coverage might be spotty and the views too good to look away from.

For AiHuiyuan and jossiemcg, for your endless supply of inspiration.

* * *

Kakashi's been sleeping on Hermione's couch for more than two weeks, and he doesn't know how to feel about that. They're on their way back from town after Kakashi's therapy, and Jón keeps asking him how he _feels_ about things. Apparently, all the different ways Kakashi's body aches and tightens and burns have different names. Apparently, he's perfectly able to feel anger and sadness, disappointment and betrayal, care and compassion. He just never identifies or acts on them, and for some reason Jón seem to think he should. At least identify them. It's exhausting, and so far mostly makes things worse. Ignoring things are easier when they are merely physical sensations.

Hermione is talking about something she read in the newspaper, but Kakashi isn't really listening. He's still reeling from Jón's suggestion of homework. It´s the most ridiculous thing he's heard in a long time.

"You're awfully silent today," Hermione says after a while. Kakashi thinks about pointing out that he's never been chatty, it can hardly surprise her now. Instead, he decides to answer the unasked question. It is rather hilarious after all.

"I believe I'm in shock," he says. "My therapist thought it was a good idea for me to '_express myself creatively'_. He suggested I '_process my experiences_ _as a_ _special-ops soldier'_ by writing, painting or making music." He shakes his head. "I'm not sure I can ever go back there," he tells her.

The bubbly feeling brought forth by Hermione's laugh is at least one he never needed help to translate. A smile finds it way to Kakashi's lips, but he hides it and widens his eyes dramatically when she glances at him. "Why not?" she says, focused again on the road. "I could probably find you a cheap flute or something, and I'm sure we'd all love to hear your interpretations of shinobi life. It sounds just like you."

"I think I prefer the violin," Kakashi answers dryly. "and I've heard five o'clock in the morning is an excellent time to learn a new instrument." It's what she deserves for her attitude.

"Go for it, I can survive anything for art," Hermione says, but she fails to keep her face straight. "What did you even say when he came up with that suggestion?"

"Eh," Kakashi rubs his neck, "I don't really remember?" The comment is met with more laughter.

"So, nothing? You just stared at him?" She glances at Kakashi and he shrugs helplessly.

"It's possible, yes," he admits. "I mean, how did he ever come to that conclusion?"

"I honestly have no idea." She shrugs before maneuvering the car through a sharp turn. "Although you _could_ paint me a picture of Konoha, since you have no photographs. I've made you sit through at slideshow of my friends, I think I deserve some payback." Kakashi remembers the slideshow well, Hermione had gotten a little carried away. At least he can now put faces to her parents, Ron, Harry, and Ginny when Hermione mentions them.

"Maa," he answers, "I'm not sure it's fair you get what you want twice in a row like that. You might have misunderstood how payback works." Hermione pouts at the road in front of them, but the lines around her eyes is a smile as clear as any.

"Pleeeease," she whines, and Kakashi can't withstand the perfect chance. He has a golden opportunity to rile her up here, and it has a good chance of turning out hilarious. It's her fault anyway, she started it. And it's far better payback than any picture.

"Maybe I could paint Konoha," he says lazily, "It should be easy. It's mostly a huge hole in the ground."

Hermione's head whips to him so fast Kakashi thinks she might wake with a sore neck tomorrow. He gets a perfect view of her eyes nearly bulging out of her head and her mouth a stylish o before she snaps back to the road. "It's _what_?" Her voice is shrill and much too loud in the small space. Kakashi can't help but smirk.

"You heard me," he says, fully aware what effect his placidness will have. He was right before, this is hilarious. Maybe he should share things with her more often.

"I did, but I'm going to need you to give me a little more than that." Hermione keeps glancing at him, still wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Her voice is well on its way to normal, but there is a solution to that.

"There was an attack." Kakashi keeps his tone impassive and shrugs. This is all old news to him after all. "I technically died for a while," he continues, "the town was turned into a huge crater, but Naruto turned up and made Nagato take all the deaths back. So, we only lost the town."

"That's… I… _what_?" Hermione sounds suspiciously faint and she reaches up to rub her left ear.

"Don't worry about it." Kakashi gives her a beaming smile, making sure she sees it before he continues. "No one died permanently, and Konoha is being rebuilt, it just got delayed by the war."

"War?!" Like intended Hermione's voice goes up at least an octave and she's throwing Kakashi narrower looks now. "When was this?"

"Last year."

"Last year?" she repeats. "All of it?"

Kakashi shrugs. "It was a long year." He doesn't mention she only knows half of it. There's no need to destroy this beautiful buzz.

"Merlin Kakashi, you can't spring these things on me like this. I'm _driving_." Hermione's fingers flex around the steering wheel.

"But it's fun." Kakashi leans back, crossing his hands behind his head. "And we're still on the road."

"Yeah, yeah, easy for you to say." A glare is sent Kakashi's way. "Just so you know, I'm going to hit you the moment I park this car." Hermione isn't honestly angry, Kakashi knows. If she was she'd never stick her tongue out at him.

"Hn," he raises an eyebrow. "Good luck with that." She huffs.

She does try to hit him when they get home, but Kakashi dances out of her way without effort. There's some serious muttering about unfair advantages that Kakashi pays no heed to, but maybe he should have accounted for Hermione's stubbornness before riling her up. Hours later, she "accidently" spills a whole glass of water over him, playing innocent like the best of them. It's incredibly annoying not to be allowed to move fast enough to avoid it, but he'll find a way to make up for it.

* * *

AN: jossiemcg, who's idea the painting thing was: It didn't turn out quite the way you wanted, but Kakashi rebelled. I blame everything on him!


	21. Chapter 21

"I won't look you know."

Kakashi lets his head fall to the side. Hermione's only a meter away, clearly visible despite the tall grass reaching up between them. She is turned to the blue sky, her eyes closed, and the lines of her face as soft as her tone. "You're making no sense," he says, and the corners of her lips twitch upwards.

"I'm telling you my eyes are closed, and I won't peek. So, if you wanted to pull that mask down and get some sun on your face, no one would know."

Instead of answering Kakashi shuffles to avoid whatever is digging into his shoulder blade. He can't remember the last time he felt sunshine on his unhenged face. It might as well be forever.

They are alone up here, over the crest of the mountain range above their houses, and completely hidden from the eyes down in the main valley. Down by the natural pond – where Hermione bathed her feet earlier, splashing water at Kakashi and calling him boring for not joining her – an ewe and her lambs are grazing. They are actual sheep, Kakashi knows, because he checked. It's not like he had much else to do, and the feel of the animals has become second nature to him after so much time with them. There could of course be a sheep-farmer shinobi who specializes in henges, but Kakashi doesn't think so.

It's been a good day. The kind of day that makes Kakashi feel soft inside. The mountainside had been a steady upwards slope with Ingo's direction, sheep spread out around them. In the parts that were moist but steady enough to carry their weight, the grass had been in bloom with hundreds of white wool tufts. There's such a field below them now, around the pond, but just a few meters higher they found ground dry enough for a lunch-spot. No one else is here, the open landscape provides no hidden vantage-points, and Hermione isn't looking. What's to stop him?

Reaching up, Kakashi thugs the mask down. The way his heart speeds up and his fingers tense with the motion come as a surprise. Hermione hasn't moved when he glances her way, and her eyes remains closed. Kakashi forces down a deep breath and releases it slowly. Okay. He can do this. There's no way he's backing down now.

Once the temporary discomfort settles down, it's pleasant to air out the heat and sweat trapped under the mask. The Icelandic summer lacks the humidity Kakashi is used to at home, making the soft fingers of the wind feel like a caress over sun-warm skin. Above him grass panicles swing lazily in the wind, framing the sky.

Nothing hurts. There's a content, relaxed feeling spreading through Kakashi's limbs, one that he doesn't dare try to name, and he wonders if this is how others feel. If this is how it's _supposed_ to be in the good moments. For a long time, Kakashi has lived with the certainty that 'feeling good' is when the pain recedes to nothing more than a deep bruise that can be ignored. But right now, _nothing_ hurts. Maybe he had felt this way, back before his father died, but that is over twenty-five years ago. Twenty-five years of that hollow ache in his chest Kakashi thought was supposed to be there.

He is drugged, a voice in the back of Kakashi's mind whispers, but he finds he doesn't care. Apart from the setback in the first weeks he hasn't had any troubling side-effects of the anti-depressants; his mind works the way he's used to, and his chakra-flow is fine. He hasn't tested his reflexes, can't while on this mission, but he thinks he could fight as usual. Which bring up an unbidden question, one Kakashi would prefer never to have asked himself. Because, what if this was all that was needed?

What if someone had forced him to start medicating years ago?

_What if he could have had moments like this all along? _

It starts in his throat, a burning trail that finds its way down to his chest and stomach. Kakashi swallows against the tightness and wonders if this is how his father felt when he died. First a rare moment of perfect serenity and then a spreading pain, strong enough to make him want to curl up on his side. Kakashi doesn't. Hermione would hear him moving.

Fighting down his impulses Kakashi keeps his breathing even, despite the resistance in his lung. There can't be a sound, not a hitch to his breath, or Hermione will know. The chill of wetness draws his attention to the fact that tears are finding their way across his temples to pool in his ears. He wants to wipe them away, but that requires moving. This is ridiculous, he tells himself, this is supposed to be a good moment. The second of inattention to his breathing makes his lungs convulse, but Kakashi swallows it down. Buries his fingers in the cold dirt under the grass. He needs to get himself under control.

Maybe it doesn't matter, Kakashi tells himself; maybe he needed Hermione, maybe Jón makes more difference than it seems. But it fails to appease him. He can't help but wonder who he'd be now if his dad had lived. Or if he'd been saved from himself afterwards. If there hadn't been a cold empty hole in his chest where his dad used to be, would he have listened to Obito sooner? And even if everything had played out the same, could he have connected with the world enough to be there for Minato's son? Maybe even reach out to Sasuke, after Kakashi was the only one left carrying his clan's kekkei genkai? Could he have been a better candidate for Hokage now, who stood a chance to do right by the village?

He almost makes it. The tears have tapered down, practically stopped, by the time Hermione stirs. "I'm about to fall asleep," she says. Her words are blurred around the edges and her voice rough. She coughs once. "So, I'm going to open my eyes in about ten seconds." In the corner of his eye Kakashi can see her stretching her arms over her head. His insides freeze and breathing once again becomes impossible. "Since you're not answering I'll take it as an okay," Hermione continues.

The mask reaches far enough to wipe his face on, even if the thin fabric mostly spreads the tear tracks out instead of absorbing them. Kakashi sits up, strategically hiding his face from Hermione's eyes before they open. With the sun heating the mask Kakashi knows it's Hermione's gaze that burns against his back. He maintains his relaxed pose, however, with crossed arms resting on drawn-up knees. You are fine, he tells himself, don't be ridiculous. Tear alone doesn't even count as crying, does it?

In the silence Kakashi hears clearly when Hermione sits up and shuffles forward to settle next to him. He looks away. "Are you okay?" Hermione asks, her voice low. Kakashi quells the spasm travelling up his chest by not breathing. He'll get bruises on the skin under his fingertips, but it doesn't matter. It won't show through his clothes. He wonders what gave him away.

"It wouldn't be strange if you were, I don't know, sad?" Hermione continues when it's clear he doesn't intend to answer. Behind him Kakashi can feel her hand approaching, and he shifts slightly to avoid it. Breathing is hard enough without the added weight. The hand freezes in the air a second before retracting.

"I'm not sad." Kakashi clarifies, his voice coming out smoother than expected, sharpened. He really isn't. "Everything is fine," he adds. Or it _was_, at least, and who's counting minutes? It's not like he has any reason to feel worse now than he did before.

Silence falls. Kakashi thought it would be preferable, but it isn't. It reaches insides him and swallows him whole at the same time. He wants to lay his head down on his arms but can't allow himself the luxury. For all of a second, he wishes for a distraction, before Hermione speaks and ruins it. "It's alright if it isn't, you know," she tells him.

Which proves how little she knows.

"No," he can't help but say, because even that is better than going back so silence. "It's not." His voice sounds like barbed wire, but it's annoyance, nothing else.

"It really is," Hermione answers, still with that soft tone that is worse than screaming. Kakashi gets that she's disappointed in him. It isn't very helpful. "I'm both sad and angsty a lot," Hermione continues. "Why would it be different for you?"

It's not strange she doesn't understand. Can't, given that he hasn't told her. He takes a breath; closes his eyes. She can't see them either way. "Shinobi doesn't do emotions," Kakashi says, "or tears."

"What?" The change in Hermione couldn't be clearer if she was standing right in front of Kakashi. She's obviously upset now. And isn't this exactly why he's been avoiding telling her?

"It's a rule," he explains, careful to keep his voice level even as his insides are boiling. "Rule 25; a shinobi must never be ruled by emotion, and they must have the strength no never show their tears. So, yes, there is a difference."

Behind him, Kakashi hears Hermione draw a long breath through her nose. It wheezes. "I'm sorry," she sounds strangled, "but that's a really stupid rule." The air by the shoulder where Hermione sits is practically vibrating. She's a civilian, however, and quick to judge at that.

Kakashi wants to stare her down, but his eyes still feel stingy and swollen. He forces himself to speak instead, calmly. "You shouldn't criticize what you don't…"

"_What_?" Hermione cuts him off. "What I don't _understand_? Because I'm not an idiot. I _do_ know that in a life-or-death situation you can't break down. I _do_ know that anger at the wrong moment gets you killed. I'm aware of what battle is. But your rule doesn't state that you should keep it together _during missions_, which would be fair. It says _never_."

There's a lot in Hermione's outburst that Kakashi intends to leave unanswered, but one major fault needs to be addressed. "I am on a mission," he reminds her.

"Oh, come on," she says, the words the crack of a whip, "seriously? We both know there's really no mission here. Not in that sense. There never where."

Her words make Kakashi's head buzz with emptiness. He swallows. It's not that what she is saying is news, but he's managed to _not_ think about that for a while. Everything inside him is burning and shrinking from the heat. He should argue with her. Let her know it's not either of their places to question the Hokage's orders. Instead, he swallows again and stands up. He might not be allowed to shunshin, but he can walk away.

Hermione is between Kakashi and the way home. He wants nothing more than to crawl into his bed and hide under the blanket, but that option is out. With the way his ribcage seems to have imploded in a painful mess, avoiding Hermione by taking the long way around the crests in front of him feels impossible. Yet facing Hermione is worse. Even if there are no tear tracks left Kakashi doubts he can keep his face neutral. Nausea rises in his throat and he can't stop swallowing, again and again.

He stops when he gets to the pond, wishing he could continue out over the water where Hermione can't possibly follow. Mission parameters are just that, however, no matter Tsunade's reasons for wanting him out of the village. Shinobi follow their commander's instructions. Without question.

.oOo.

Hermione watches Kakashi's back as he walks away. She kneads her eyebrows with pressure enough to hurt, then pushes her thumbs against her eyes. If she could just be less of herself, things like this wouldn't continue to happen. She might have snapped, a little bit, faced by those ridiculous rules, and that was not good. Very not good. The reasoning had just been so stupid, and she knows Kakashi is far from that. It had been easy to forget with everything lately, that it doesn't matter if he'd handled her crisis alright. He can still deny his own feelings. Apparently he was raised to, and isn't that insight a punch to Hermione's abdomen?

It does explain a lot though.

Wrapping her arms around herself Hermione wonders what's on Kakashi's face. The stiffness over his shoulders now, and the carefully controlled breathing as he sat next to her, tells their story, but without his facial expression a vital piece is missing. Speculation is more than likely to send her astray but refraining from it is impossible. Biting the inside of her lip, she wishes he'd accept hugs. He sure looks like he needs one.

Kakashi stops by the pond, and Hermione gives him a few minutes before she stands. She makes her way to him slowly, giving him the decision to stay or leave. There's a messy nest of feelings in her stomach, weighting her down, but she's got things she needs to apologize for.

The fact that he remains in place until she stops a step behind his shoulder is intimidating in its gravity. She isn't capable of handling situations this delicate. Is too pushy, and opinionated, and overbearing. She draws a breath, deep and slow. "I'm sorry," she says, and her voice at least doesn't betray her. "The thing about the mission came out wrong." She's been thinking about it on her way here, and that comment was a clear transgression on her part. It seems like a fair place to start.

"But not the rest?" Kakashi's voice is as unmoveable as his back. It tells Hermione nothing at all and everything she needs to know. She takes a moment to formulate an answer that is truthful but hopefully not overly offensive.

"It wasn't my finest delivery," she admits, "but I stand by my words. I mean, it's in the rule itself even; a shinobi must never _show_ their tears. Like, you're all expected to cry, but you should pretend you don't." In the silence that follows her words Hermione can hear her own heartbeat. She swallows around the tightness in her chest and digs her fingernails into the soft flesh at the base of her thumb. It stings. Kakashi is close enough to touch, but she doesn't dare try it again.

"Please talk to me," Hermione says when the lack of sound grows too loud in her ears. She knows how to deal with people who scream, cry, or laugh when things get too much, but silence was never her strength.

"Why?" Kakashi asks, and there's something hard in his tone. A core of stone beneath the blank surface.

"Because," Hermione hesitates for a second. She's not sure an honest answer will help the situation, but at the same time she can't keep it inside. "From where I'm standing, you are falling into pieces." The words feel like they pass her throat sideways, too big to really fit, but they come out sounding surprisingly normal. Hermione catches her tongue between her teeth and wraps her arms around herself.

"You are delusional," Kakashi answers. "Everything's good." Hermione wishes it was a valid option to grab and shake him. Or scream. Or both.

"Yeah?" she challenges. "Why don't you look at me then?" The fight to keep the frustration out of her voice is only moderately successful. Kakashi's had a lot of patience with her these last weeks, she should be able to do the same for him.

There is no answer. Of course. Hermione restrains a sigh and studies her hiking booths. They are muddy. The frustration is giving way to despondency. She's not sure if that's better or worse.

"So, I can't touch you, and you won't look at me, but everything's good?" The nail of her right pinkie finds its way to her lower lip, scratching absentmindedly. "Was it something I did?" She knows it isn't, or shouldn't be at least, but can't help the question. Anything to get some kind of reaction.

"Don't." Kakashi's voice is hoarse.

"What?" The question escapes before Hermione can process what Kakashi is saying.

"Don't do _this_." There's a vulnerability in Kakashi's words, stark in its contrast to his usual steadiness. And she put it there. Hermione closes her eyes and breathes. She did tell herself not to push, and then went on to do exactly that. With guilt none the less, which might be the worst kind of pressure.

"I'm sorry," she says, and she means it. "I just..." want to do something, she thinks. Anything. This whole situation is eating her alive. But she can't tell Kakashi that, it's not exactly helpful. "You want to be left alone," she says instead, "I get it. I'll be back by our stuff." If Hermione could have one wish granted in that moment it would be Kakashi accepting help. Preferably hers. She can't remember feeling this powerless even in relation to her own issues when they were at their worst. "Is that better?" she asks when there's no reaction from Kakashi. The question is met with more silence and she shuffles to move, unwilling but compelled by her own words and destructive reactions. Her being here helps no one.

"No." Kakashi's voice stops her before she can take the first step. "I..." Hermione can't tell if his voice breaks or fades out because he doesn't know how to finish the sentence. "Distract me?" His head bows forwards with the words, and he draws a breath deep enough to raise his shoulders. Hermione grabs hold of the fabric of her shirt to stop herself from reaching for him. Even so, the pain is mingled with warmth because he's actually _asking_ her to help. As if someone heard her wish only seconds ago and decided it was a reasonable request.

"Okay," Hermione says. "I can do that." She searches for something she can rant about without needing input; discards the wizarding world's view on muggles on the basis of it being too personal. This isn't about her after all.

"I haven't told you about my latest pet peeve, have I?" she asks, but goes on before Kakashi can answer. "I've sort of started to see the way newspapers make it sound like there are no villains. Like the violence does itself, and now that I started noticing it, I just can't stop. It's all passive phrasing, like someone 'was raped', or 'domestic violence kills', and it's just so annoying you know?" Hermione bets Kakashi doesn't know, but she goes on anyway. She's warming to the subject and can feel her body loosening and her hands begin to twitch as she speaks. "I mean, murder or rape or domestic violence isn't something that just happens on its own. There are perpetrators. Like the other day when a headline said domestic violence kills lots of women. But it's not the violence on its own, is it? It's their boyfriends or husbands, doing the violence."

"Does it really matter though?" Kakashi asks as she pauses for air. He sounds more normal now, if still slightly empty. "Don't we all already know there's someone behind it?"

Hermione hums. "I guess we do, on some level, but it still matters, I believe. The language we use to describe things changes the way we think about them, meaning that the use of passive language like that easily spreads the idea that these things are a sort of natural force that will always happen. I think that prevents us from putting the blame in the right place, and makes us not work as hard to stop these things as we should." She tries to remember what she said, and if she had any kind of cohesion, but doesn't know. "Am I making any sense?" she asks instead.

"Yes," Kakashi says, "and no." It's enough to carry the conversation for a while longer, letting it slip seamlessly into the next one as the topic begins to drain.

The tension in Kakashi's shoulders slowly falls away and a little bit of life re-enters his voice. He stays with his back to her for a long time, but Hermione doesn't call him out on it. At least like this, she can do something.

.oOo.

Going down is much easier that going up. The fact that it's expected doesn't make it less pleasant. Hermione even manages to carry a conversation while walking, telling Kakashi about glass cliffs and Theresa May stepping down as soon as a successor is appointed. She had needed several breaks on their way up, while Kakashi walked leisurely next to her like gravity doesn't apply to him, but she gets halfway down in one go. Setting her backpack by her side Hermione sits down on a stone. This job has added a lot of muscle mass to her upper body, but it doesn't include cardio and she's getting winded.

The hillside is beautiful in the sunlight, green and yellow, dotted with white. She runs her hand over a ball of cottongrass, its softness catching lightly in the dry ridges on her fingertips. "You want anything?" she asks Kakashi, as she pulls out a water bottle and some chocolate. He declines, and tests the wetness of the ground with his fingers before sitting down next to her. If Hermione hadn't seen him a couple of hours ago, she'd think this day was just like any other. Now she knows it isn't, and traces of heaviness clings around Kakashi like an impervious-charm she can't stop noticing. Or imagining, for all she knows. The vulnerability, at least, is gone, and Hermione can't help but feel slightly cold-hearted in her relief to not have to see it.

The chocolate has a core of toffee, and Hermione falls silent as she chews it. Kakashi breaks a straw of grass into tiny pieces next to her. "I wasn't lying," he says as Hermione reaches for the water, "before."

"About what?" she asks, despite being certain what he means. A sip of water takes her eyes away from Kakashi, and it's a deliberate try to look casual.

"About everything being good. It was." Kakashi meets Hermione's eyes as she looks at him. His hands stop moving. There's nothing to make it seem like he's lying. In Hermione's mind the pieces fall into place.

"Until it wasn't?" she says when it's clear Kakashi won't add anything else. Another piece of candy finds its way to her mouth, effectively leaving him to do the talking.

He shrugs and looks away. Drops what's left of the straw. In the silence Hermione can hear how the toffee sticks in her teeth as she chews.

"When I was at the bottom," she says once her mouth is empty, "I didn't cry. I couldn't." Turning away from Kakashi she stares blankly out across the valley, resting her elbows on her knees. It's not a pleasant time to recall, but she continues none the less. "It was just… too much, I guess. It was everything or nothing, and nothing was the only conceivable choice." A glance shows Kakashi is watching her now, his eyebrows drawn together to create a ditch over his nose. She shrugs. "The crying did come later, obviously. When the adrenaline faded, and I realized that there would be an _after_."

"Isn't the medication supposed to spare me that?" Kakashi asks, and a rustle follows the words. When Hermione looks over, he's lain down, his knees forming a barrier between them. When his words sink in Hermione can feel her heart stutter. She can't remember if he has ever come that close to admitting he's in a bad place.

"Not really," Hermione forms her lips into a facsimile of a smile, but without the joy. "They can take away the lethargy and the hollowness, and baseless things. Not your history." Too little is visible of Kakashi to read anything out of. "Pain doesn't go away just because you choose not to feel it," she adds. "It eats you from the inside out until you deal with it."

Kakashi doesn't answer. Instead he raises his arms to rest his palms against his forehead and entangle his fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry," Hermione says, "I wish I could give you another answer." She picks at her nails and entertain the idea of taking another piece of candy. Decides not to. "I know it's scary as hell to fall apart," she tells Kakashi, "but I think it's like when you break a bone. It grows back stronger."

A huff is heard and Kakashi lifts his head to look at her. He raises an eyebrow. "You do know the break is only stronger than the rest of the bone because the unbroken parts weaken from lack of use?" he says dryly. "After the bone has managed to heal the damage done from the break there's no difference."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hermione shoves at his knees. "Bad analogy, obviously, but you get my point."

"That falling apart hurts like hell and make no difference what-so-ever in the long run? Absolutely. I'll avoid it, thanks." He drops back to the ground in time to miss Hermione sticking her tongue out.

"You're ridiculous," she tells him. "Now get up. All of us can't have the weekends off, I've got milking in two hours." There is plenty of time to get home before then, but Kakashi doesn't complain. Hermione gathers her things and they continue on their way, carefully keeping their feet dry and their conversation light.

.oOo.

Hermione goes out to the barn, but Kakashi keeps fighting it. It'll turn around, tomorrow will be better, he can make it until then. Because shinobi don't cry. And because he thinks he might not be able to ever regain the control again. For distraction, he runs. Takes off back up the mountainside. Keeps pushing forward, faster until his shortness of breath is nothing but the effect of physical exertion. Until his mind blanks out.

When he feels like he can't take another step he turns back. It's far. He's almost reached the place where they had lunch, but he doesn't pause. Finds his way home instead, the universe shrinking to his aching legs and the ground immediately in front of him. Once he reaches the porch, Kakashi takes a moment. Leans with a hand against the wall until the world stills. He should stretch out his legs but can't imagining putting all his weight on one of them for the time it takes to stretch the other. A shower sounds far more compelling.

"Had a good run?" Hermione asks him from the couch as he stops in the living room to pick up his pyjamas. She's eyeing him over an open book, a cup of tea steaming on the table. Kakashi's mouth is sticky and tastes like blood. He nods. The book reclaims Hermione's attention and Kakashi walks on unsteady legs to the bathroom, drinks from the tap until his stomach aches, and steps into the shower.

The temperate water is a bliss. Closing his eyes Kakashi lets it rinse away the grime, sweat, and lingering discomfort. His head is still buzzing, and he wants to sit down on the floor and forget his own existence. Only, he doesn't think he'll be able to get back on his feet if he does and showers aren't great for sleeping. Drawn to the idea of going to bed, Kakashi washes off and gets ready for the night.

With Hermione on the couch, the logical thing to do would be to take one of the armchairs. But that means getting up again at one point. For the first time since he started camping out at Hermione's, Kakashi wishes he had an actual mattress. That was unoccupied. The couch _is_ made for more than one person, however, so it wouldn't be unreasonable for them to share. If Kakashi picks his seat with the tiniest amount of precision, he could even simply fall sideways once Hermione leaves. All he will need to do is lift his legs up. He can manage that. Probably.

He should have expected, Kakashi thinks as he leans his head back against the backrest, that this would happen. It's typical for his life, isn't it? Of course that one minute of absolute peace couldn't be allowed to go on. It had only been a teasing example of how things could be. For other people.

The last few days had all been good ones, and when he thinks about it Kakashi wonders if he hasn't had more good days than bad for a while now. His kind of good days at least. If he'd known that all that unfelt hurt would amass into today, he's not sure he'd let it happen. Or would he? Closing his eyes, he sees Hermione's bulging eyes at the news of Konoha's destruction, the way she looked when she got her first decent result with the kunai, feels the echo of pride and warmth from when he did right by her after her nightmare. Then there's the feeling of laughing, sun on his face, and traces of the blissful sensation Kakashi doesn't quite dare to call happiness.

"You look beat," Hermione says from her corner and Kakashi can feel her eyes on him. "How far did you run?" she asks.

"Almost to the top." He doesn't bother with lifting his head or opening his eyes.

"The top that took us almost three hours to reach?" Hermione sounds disbelieving, but then she is a slow walker.

"And then back," Kakashi clarifies.

Cracking open an eyelid is worth it to see Hermione's widened eyes and the way she angles her head. "That's obviously insane," she tells him.

Kakashi hums. "You do know I use to run between countries?" he says, knowing she does. "We're not the biggest nations, but it's farther, trust me."

"Yeah, but you boost your body with chakra then, so it's not really the same." Kakashi makes the smallest motion he can manage that is still a shrug and closes his eye again. "I should vacate your bed," Hermione continues when it's clear Kakashi doesn't intend to answer. It sounds like an amazing idea. This is a day Kakashi won't mind putting behind him.

Silence falls for a few seconds and Kakashi knows Hermione is studying him. She shifts, the well-worn pullover she uses over her sweatpants rustling against the cushions. "I sort of want to hug you," she says, her tone adding a question mark to her statement. "If you don't mind."

Kakashi evaluates his stability. Finds it better than a few hours ago, which doesn't say much. It's not like it matter anyway. "I'm not standing up," he says. "Shop's closed, come back tomorrow." Hermione snorts.

"I'll take that as a no. Or yes. Or whatever means you don't mind." There's a shuffle beside him, and the unmistakeable feeling of someone entering Kakashi's personal space, and… He did not expect that. Not in a million years would he have guessed Hermione would take 'I'm not standing up' as 'go ahead and hug me sitting down.' Maybe he should have. It is Hermione after all.

There's a shoulder at Kakashi's throat, and hair in his face. He can't move enough to hug her back. The arm that has snaked between him and the couch makes his neck bend uncomfortably. A quick look through half-closed eyes shows Hermione is twisted in a way that looks mostly painful. It's awkward. Kakashi should end it, for both of their sakes. Yet, the shoulder in front of him looks like an okay place to rest his head, and Kakashi shouldn't, but he does it anyway. He feels shaky, and cold, and the blankness from running is fading away. Being alone with his thoughts isn't something to look forward to anyways.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Hermione says, and Kakashi feels like he's been stabbed. He knows he should be stronger than this but… "Come on." She thugs at him and Kakashi's heart stops. _That is not better_. He knows what it means when a woman tries to drag a man down with her. Knows he's supposed to want things he doesn't. What did he do to make her change her mind about being friends?

Remaining upright is easy, but Kakashi leaves his head on Hermione's shoulder when he speaks. Lifting it would mean looking at her, and he can't. "I'm not…" he tries, "I don't want…" She pulls away, and he can feel her gaze burning his hair. He doesn't look up, focuses on breathing instead.

"Neither. Do. I." Hermione says, slow can clear. "Okay? I'm sorry if I overstepped, I didn't mean to insinuate, it just…" she tapers off. "It seemed like a practical solution," she finally says.

He doesn't know who starts laughing first.

Kakashi laughs until he runs out of air. His breath hitches. It feels like after someone has punched him in the gut and paralyzed his diaphragm. The temporary numbness from running has worn through like the energy from a food pill. He should have guessed the backlash would be similar as well. Maybe he's going insane. Leaning forward Kakashi places his elbows on his knees and twists his hands into his hair. The sharp sting on his scalp serving as a focal point for his mind.

A hand lands on Kakashi's shoulder and continues out across his back. "Easy," Hermione says, "it's okay. You'll be okay."

"How would you know?" Kakashi manages. His dad hadn't been okay. Not Obito. Not Rin. Not Minato or…

"If I were to guess," Hermione interrupts his thoughts, "your chest feels funny. Like it's shrunk a size, and it makes you aware of every breath you take." It's not an unreasonable conclusion for her to make, his uneven breathing a dead giveaway. It doesn't _prove_ anything. "You might even feel your own pulse," Hermione continues, "stronger or faster than it should be. You could be warm, or cold, or dizzy. You _are_ tense." She draws her thumb along one of the muscles in Kakashi's back with the last statement. Kakashi closes his eyes. It's coincidence, nothing more. She's just guessing.

"More than anything though, there's this feeling." Hermione's voice sounds far away. "Like worry, but without something to worry about, so your brain starts making up things to project the emotion on. Mistakes you've made, insecurities you have, catastrophes that might happen; it's all dragged to the surface. And it feeds into it. Makes breathing harder, messes up your heartbeat, make you feel sick, and your mind starts spinning faster trying to find reasons for why you're feeling like this. Which really only makes it worse." The words echo back and forth through Kakashi's brain in the space of Hermione inhaling.

"Right or wrong?" Hermione finishes, drawing him in so he's leaning against her side.

That he allows it to happen is a sign of weakness, he knows it is, and a shinobi shouldn't show weakness. Maybe he shouldn't be a shinobi – he's failing spectacularly at it after all – but Kakashi can't imagine being anything else. He definitely can't imagine being Hokage. If he breaks basic rules of being a ninja after twenty-five years of active service, how will he ever manage to live up to the hat?

There was a question, he remembers, one he hasn't answered. "I…" he clears his throat, but the lump there remains. "I don't know."

"Yeah," Hermione says, "I do. And maybe the symptoms are different for you, but it's still anxiety. Which will get better. You _will_ be okay. It's temporary." The arm around Kakashi's shoulders is firm, but the voice is soft.

Anxiety. Okay.

If this is anxiety, Kakashi doesn't like it much. "How do I make it stop?" he asks, hating how frail he sounds. He's been through far worse days in his life, there's no reason for his throat to tighten like this now.

Hermione exhales. "I really wish I knew," she says. "I guess I just try to not let it dictate my life by reminding myself that this is one of the traits that keeps my great, great ancestors alive, back when people died in much larger numbers than today." Her shrug transfers into Kakashi. "_Fake it 'til you make it_ works sometimes, hugs and verbalizing my thought keeps me sane for the rest. I write a lot if there's no one to talk to, or if it's things I can't bring myself to say out loud."

Hugs, Kakashi repeats in his mind, and talking. That explains more about Hermione in one sentence than he ever thought possible. He isn't sure that the same techniques apply to him. They're probably too different. Although hugs aren't necessarily bad, he doesn't need them the way Hermione do. And talking is definitely not for him.

When there's no answer, Hermione must interpret it like some kind of agreement. She folds under Kakashi's weight, and since he's already leaning against her it would be an active decision not to go with her. Kakashi is too tired to fight, or make choices. On the way down, Hermione twists so that she ends up on her back with Kakashi sandwiched between her side and the back of the couch. The arm that was around his shoulders circles around his back.

"This is improper," Kakashi says. He tries to figure out where to put his right arm. The least awkward place he can come up with being on his hip, where it already rests. It's not very comfortable.

"Probably," she says. He'd expected her to disagree, to come up with some reason for why it was normal. "Does it matter?" she asks instead, and that's the real question isn't it?

The knee-jerk reaction is to say, "of course it matters," but the words stick in Kakashi's throat. He's been raised a shinobi, taught that the most important things he has is his skills and his reputation. He's accepted that things like hugs are for couples, and as such will never be for him. Ninjas do get married and has families and what-not, but that has the pre-requirement of falling in love. Kakashi has no idea how to do that. Is in fact certain he can't. People in love seem to get stupid in ways he's sure he can never manage.

And, his mind is spinning away from the subject: If Hermione expects nothing more from him? If they're friends? If no one else knows? _Does it really matter?_ Maybe he could just stay here for a minute, until he finds the energy to sit back up?

Lying like this, Kakashi feels every single one of Hermione's breaths against his chest as her ribcage widens. Through the soft, worn sweater, he can hear the steady beat of her heart. He lets his eyelids fall shut. When he swallows, his throat is as thick as it was up on the mountain. Yet, while the feeling this afternoon had been the strong rushing current of a swift river, or trying to stay afloat at the base of a waterfall, this is the slow inevitably of the tide flowing in. For the first time Kakashi can remember, he _wants_ to cry. If it could make even a little bit of the pain in his chest go away, it could be worth it.

Of course, that means he can't. Not a single tear fall.

"Talk to me." Hermione's voice is low. She moves her head, stirring Kakashi's hair, but he can't tell which way. "Give me one thing that's on your mind. As small as you like."

"Why?" Kakashi asks. His voice is rougher that he'd like.

"Why not?" Hermione counters.

Kakashi should sit up. Move away. Hermione might be in his bed, but he has another one at Heimstaðir. Only, his legs are tingling with exhaustion and he wants nothing but sleep. Going outside feels like the worst idea possible. Not to mention explaining to Sunna why he's stumbling back in all of a sudden. The sigh he lets escape is wobbly. A hint of a tremor travels under the skin along Kakashi's arm, but it's the coolness of the air, nothing else.

"It hurts," he says, "and changes nothing." It comes out too close to being an accusation, but he doesn't take it back.

Silence falls. Given the lack of change in Hermione's pulse Kakashi doesn't think she's angry with him. After a while she hums, the sound vibrating through her shoulder and spreading to Kakashi's cheek. "It does hurt," she says, "but I believe it hurts either way. And that sometimes it can be better to get all the hurt out at once than carrying it around indefinitely. Like ripping a band aid, or pulling out an aching tooth, or resetting a dislocation." None of them are things Kakashi has tried, but he gets her point. This is not an aching tooth however, but something far messier.

"You could try, with one of the smaller things, that's all I'm saying," Hermione continues when it's clear Kakashi has no intention to speak. Her tone files away any edges the words could have had. "If you feel the same after that I won't keep on nagging you. Promise." She bumps her knee sideways into Kakashi's leg. Her voice is smiling.

Maybe, if he doesn't move, Hermione will think he's fallen asleep. That would save Kakashi from reacting. He probably could fall asleep for real, if his left arm wasn't becoming numb from being trapped under his body. It would be the perfect escape.

Hermione's prompting sticks in Kakashi's mind. It tumbles around and knocks topics loose from their storage, all the things he's trying (and failing) not to think about. 'One of the smaller things;' what would that even be? Everything is one huge tangle of disasters pressed together by the snowballing mess his life became after his dad died. There is no way to explain his inadequacy with Sasuke or Naruto without catching the thread that's his own genin team. It's impossible to touch at the war without absolutely everything else cascading down with it, and very few things this last year that can be mentioned without ending up with questions about said war.

Breathing becomes close to impossible. With a boost of chakra to his legs Kakashi could get away from here. No more is needed. But he's not supposed to use chakra. Forcing his breath into sync with Hermione's works for a while, and he lets that and her heartbeat fill his mind. It's soothing. More so than he believed possible. Hugs might work after all, even horizontal ones.

He probably is going insane; the evidence is stacking up. How is someone who can't keep his own mind in check meant to be able to keep a village safe? And that's it, isn't it? The smallest thing that has defined edges. One thing that might be sacrificed to have a fool proof way to avoid nagging like this in the future.

.oOo.

Hermione almost flinches when Kakashi speaks, having been certain that he won't. "They'll make me Hokage once I get home," he says, his voice cool and low. She wonders how much practice it takes to say things like that so casually.

This day has been a mad roller-coaster, but it's been Kakashi's trip. Hermione's only been along for the ride. It's not what she expected, and a traitorous voice in the back of her head reminds her she to have a quiet evening with her book. Not that she minds dropping it for Kakashi, she'd skip a lot more, but she hasn't finished readjusting yet. It's a strange role, she thinks, supporting someone. It's scary, painful, usually inconvenient, and impossible to schedule. For someone who likes organization and plans it has a way of turning everything on its head. Even so, there's nowhere she'd rather be than right here. Kakashi needs her, apparently trusts her more than she thought, and has been there for her a lot lately. Her own convenience matters little compared to that.

"Make you?" she questions when the silence stretches. Pushing now is a horrible idea, but a little encouragement shouldn't hurt. Probably. "You don't have a choice?" Kakashi breathes quietly by her side. From her angle all she can see is his hair, which doesn't give her much to go on.

"Tsunade's stepping down," he finally tells her. "Naruto needs a few more years. There's no other candidates until then." The grey strands touching the side of Hermione's neck is wet and the air smells faintly of shampoo. He never said it's not a choice, but Hermione knows how the possibility to decline is sometimes only a theoretical exercise. Like joining Harry on the hunt for horcruxes. Or fighting in the battle of Hogwarts.

"Why you though?" Hermione prods. Kakashi shrugs with his free shoulder.

"It needs to be someone strong, and well-known enough to dissuade attackers. Someone strategic, who's done a lot of missions as a squad leader, and are respected for their skills." Pairing his answers together Hermione realizes she needs to re-evaluate Kakashi once more.

"You never told me you are famous," she says, careful to keep her tone joking as she taps his side with her fingers.

"You never told me _you_ are famous," Kakashi replies, and Hermione can bet he'd raise an eyebrow if she could see them.

"Point well made," she concedes, "but that's because the policeman sort of beat me to it."

"Excuses," Kakashi says. The arm already in place around him is perfect for jostling him, and if she shakes some of the tenseness from his posture it's a complete coincidence. It's a playful punishment that only happens to end with him leaning a little more against her.

"You'll be okay," Hermione says as the heaviness sneaks back in. It's a stupid thing to say, a pointless comfort that's almost a lie. Kakashi huffs out a breath that falls in the vicinity of being a laugh but lacks amusement.

"Yeah," he says. "_I'm_ always okay."

The continuation hangs unsaid between them. Wondering how many people someone would lose over twenty-five years of active service, Hermione lets her outer hand find its way around Kakashi as well and locks her fingers together behind his back.

"Two things," she says. "One; I meant that you'll _do_ alright. And two; I think saying you're always okay might be a bit of a stretch." There are much more she wants to say, questions she wants to ask and thoughts she wants to share. There will be time for that later, however, if she handles this right. When his breath has evened out and the shakiness has receded.

Kakashi remains unmoving, quiet. Pressing him more now is doomed to be counterproductive, so Hermione mimics his reaction. She hasn't been this close to anyone since breaking up with Ron. It's nice, if a little awkward. With Ron it always had the risk of becoming something more complicated, but she doesn't feel that way with Kakashi. They might not be as familiar with each other's bodies, not able to fit together as seamlessly as you can after years of lying close to someone, but it's effortless in a different way. Close, warm, safe, and intimate in a non-sexual way. She didn't think she could have that, thought she would have to choose.

A small shuffle at her side makes Hermione think Kakashi's arm must have fallen asleep. He's not leaning against her enough to get it behind his body, but she hasn't been able to tell him that. It would be a supremely uncomfortable conversation. For being a species with a need for physical contact, Hermione thinks the human body is poorly designed with its impractical shoulders and arms that tend to get in the way in any position that isn't horrible for the neck. Kakashi twists his body away from her and rests his back against the couch, the crushed arm becoming their only point of contact from Kakashi's side. On the narrow couch it almost sends Hermione toppling to the floor.

"Want me to evacuate your bed so you can sleep?" she asks. A voice in her head tells her that no, she likes it here, _she_ could sleep here, but this isn't about her. Even if she _could_ curl into Kakashi's side and get all her weight back on the couch.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day." Kakashi's tone is dry, but like dust it has no sharpness.

Hermione wants to reach out and ruffle his hair, but she contains herself. Lying like this it's easy to fall back to the habits she had with Ron, but touching Kakashi too casually is bound to lead to disaster. It won't matter if she doesn't intend for it to be anything but comfort. They're already toeing the line between friendship and something else here, because like Kakashi pointed out this isn't considered proper between friends. It would be frowned upon if either of them had a significant other.

Wishing seldom leads anywhere, but Hermione wants a label in between friendship and couple; one where being curled up on the couch together was okay but no one expected romance. Where she could smooth down the duvet she places over Kakashi before she leaves for her bedroom. Now, instead, she lets it float down on top of him and watches him roll over to wrap it around himself as she says good night, her hands at her sides.


	22. Chapter 22

AN: I've decided to stop making ANs from here on out unless it's something very special. I will use that energy to more constructive things, like writing. All my ANs say about the same things anyway: I'm publishing later than planned, I haven't betaed as much as I should, and I love you all. Please consider all of the above true for every chapter and keep sending me reviews to let me know what you think (those I will continue answering, of course, I absolutely love that bit).

Also, general disclaimer for the whole story: I'm not a medical professional, not a therapist of any kind, nor anything else that means you should take anything said in here as an absolute truth. This is especially true for things regarding medications, medical diagnostics, and such. This is based on my own journey and experiences, and while I've researched a lot, some things are completely made up. I appreciate if you let me know if you find any obvious faults.

* * *

Kakashi wakes with a fever. He's known it for most of the night, alternating between freezing and burning, and the ache in his muscles in the morning is confirmation rather than news. Some kind of virus probably, which can also explain his susceptibility yesterday. It's normal to be a bit off right before you get sick, isn't it? At least it's Sunday, and he has nothing on his schedule. With some rest he should be fit for work tomorrow.

Over breakfast, Hermione takes one look at him and calls him out on it. Kakashi feels like banging his head against the table. A normal person wouldn't have noticed and if they did, they'd sure wouldn't bring it up, but Hermione never cared much about normal, did she? There's no point trying to deny it, the certainty in her voice is absolute, even if she phrases it as a question.

"You know," Hermione says, pushing her plate away from her, "overdoing it can do that. If your autonomous nervous system is broken from stress it can react to additional strain with fever, to make you slow down. And I guess running to the top of the mountain and back without using your chakra could be a bit much, even for you." She sips her tea. Any other kinds of strain from yesterday is left unmentioned, and Kakashi doesn't know whether to be grateful or apprehensive. It's bound to come up sooner or later, she's not good at letting things be.

"Or," he says, before she can change her mind. "It's just a virus."

She shrugs. "Or it's just a virus," she agrees. "Either way there's some…" she frowns and shakes her head slightly. "Or not, since they're NSAIDs. The pharmacy should be open though, if you need anything?"

The smile finds its way to Kakashi's lips unbidden, but it's small enough to not be seen through the mask. "I'll be fine," he tells her. It's not like he's a fan of fever-reducers anyway. Better to let his immune system do its thing.

Before dropping the subject Hermione makes him promise to let her know if he changes his mind.

.oOo.

"I was thinking," Hermione says as she's dishing up potatoes on her plate for lunch. "Is there somewhere around here where I could go to see the actual sun at midnight?"

"Já," Ingo answers, scratching his beard, "up by the coast. Or on some of the mountains maybe." He turns to Kristín, and switches to Icelandic.

The conversation flows back and forth for a while before Kristín rises, digs through a kitchen drawer, and comes back with a map that she unfolds on the table. "Some people drive up here for Jónsmessa," she says, pointing with her left hand and shovelling meatloaf into her mouth with her right. "That's on Monday, but it might be empty during the week if you want to take your boy on a date."

"Jónsmessa?" Hermione asks. As she says it, the rest of Kristín's sentence sinks in. Heat spreads across Hermione's face. "And he's not my boy, and it wouldn't be a date."

"So, he's not coming?" Kristín smirks.

"I don't know, but it's not a date either way." There's a tablecloth, and if Hermione were to slide down out of her chair, she might be able to disappear under the table. Kristín laughs at her, and even Ingo's smiling. He's such a traitor.

"If you take a guy you've been sleeping with every night for _weeks_ to a secluded mountaintop to watch the midnight sun; it's a date."

"It's not like that," Hermione tries. "He's staying on the couch, because I was freaking out after the fire, and…" The memory of laying together on that very couch, only three days ago, and how she had wished she could go to sleep there, springs unbidden to Hermione's mind. She can feel the warmth on her face creep down her neck and knows she's beet red.

"Yeah, yeah, we've heard it all before." Kristín waves her fork around. "Does he have a girlfriend back home? Is that it?"

Hermione chokes on her milk, nearly spraying it across the table. The coughing that follows makes sure she can't get a word through. Kristín's grin becomes impossibly wide. "Oooh," she starts, but Ingo lays a hand across her mouth.

"I like Hermione," Ingo says with a smile of his own, "so don't scare her off." He turns towards Hermione. "Did you know she made our kids refuse to bring home anyone they were dating for several years?"

"It's not my fault that first one didn't have any humour." The hand hasn't left Kristín's mouth, making her words muffled.

"What did she do?" Hermione asks Ingo, and she can feel laughter twitching in the corners of her lips.

Before Ingo can answer Kristín shoves his arm away. "Jónsmessa," she says loudly, "is the Icelandic midsummer celebrations. It's held at the 24th of June, right after…" Beside her, her husband is mouthing that he'll tell Hermione later.

.oOo.

Ingo knocks on Hermione's front door that afternoon, a rolled-up guest mattress in hand. "I'm not my wife, nor Sunna," he tells Hermione, "I couldn't care less who sleeps where. But _if_ he's sleeping on the couch, I think this might be better. No one should be sleeping on a sofa for weeks on end."

The smile and "thank you," that Hermione gives him is honest, but a sinking feeling lodges in the bottom of her stomach as she carries the mattress in. Kakashi's been sleeping on her couch for too long, hasn't he? It hasn't even been altogether necessary for the last couple of days. The nightmares have abated, and the fear is fading away. Surely, if someone where to come, it would already have happened? Weeks have passed after all. She's repeatedly told herself she can keep Kakashi around for one more night, just in case. Then, after Saturday, she's been telling herself she doesn't want to drive him away. In case _he_ needs _her_. Which really should be his choice, shouldn't it?

Truth is, she likes having Kakashi around. Not only because she feels safe. That hasn't been the main reason for quite some time now. She simply doesn't know what she'd do on her own with all this time on her hands. When he's at Heimstaðir working during the days the house feels empty in a way it didn't before. There's a lot of things passing through her mind that she wants to tell him in those short hours alone, but at least now she knows he'll show up in the evening.

Realizing she would miss seeing Kakashi every day if he moved back to Heimstaðir is terrifying. Because Hermione knows that in only a few months it won't be a question of how many days will pass in between meeting Kakashi. The question will be if they'll ever meet again. With that in mind, she should definitely let him go now. Getting used to this will only make it hurt more later. Tomorrow, though; she can tell him tomorrow.

.oOo.

Tuesday evening there's an actual mattress waiting for Kakashi when he gets back to Hermione's. His back and shoulders are grateful, because even if he switches direction every other night the slight tilt of the sofa cushions is beginning to get to him. That the new bed puts an uncomfortable tightness in his abdomen is something he prefers not to analyse. It's better to take Hermione outside and focus on kunai practice. There's a practical function to that.

Over the last weeks Hermione's built up decent skills for a civilian beginner. Enough that Kakashi trusts she won't hurt herself. For him, target practice without chakra felt flat at first, empty and imprecise with its low speed, but he's getting used to it. He watches as Hermione sends a kunai flying. It's fishtailing and dropping altitude with the loss of speed. Not one of her finer throws. He sends a kunai of his own to knock it down, the sound of steel against steel sharp in the wind. The impulse to close his left eye is still there.

"What?" Hermione wheels around, pointing at him with the kunai she's transferred to her right hand. "What?" she repeats. Kakashi raises a lone eyebrow at the blade aimed at his chest. Not that it's dangerous, wielded like that and against him, but it's bad form. "Sorry," Hermione says and lowers her arm. "But still; what was that? What if that was my bullseye?" She's not actually angry, Kakashi knows, her eyes aren't narrow enough for that.

"It wasn't." Kakashi shrugs. "It would have hit right there." Without looking he sends a new kunai flying, hitting the target in the lower left corner. Hermione's eyes go back and forth between the hilt of the knife and Kakashi's smile. He tries his best to look innocent.

"Show-off." Hermione sticks her tongue out. "Now leave my kunai in the air, please?" She cocks her head, and if she wasn't carrying blades Kakashi thinks she'd cross her arms

"But stationary targets are boring." Kakashi lets his shoulders slump and hangs his head. Hermione laughs at him.

"I'm not feeling sorry for you," she informs. "You can stop trying, you're still not allowed to shoot down my kunai."

"Just the bad ones?" Kakashi asks. "Until I learn to use both my eyes?" The second he says it he knows it was too much. There will be questions.

"Learn to use both your eyes?" Hermione recites, her left thumb scraping a strand of hair out of her face. The wind replaces it with another one.

Grimacing, Kakashi rubs his neck. "I'm not getting out of that one, am I?" he says.

"Nope." Hermione straightens with the word, curiosity in her eyes and a grin on her lips. It's hard not to smile with her, and this isn't a secret per se. There hasn't been a reason to mention it, is all.

"Well, this eye," Kakashi reaches up to trail his fingers lightly over his left eyelid, following the scar tissue from eyebrow to the edge of his mask, "it used to be different: Faster. More exact."

Obito's, that's what it used to be. A memento, a sacrifice, and a gift. An ace up his sleeve that got him where he is today. A connection to a boy Kakashi had resented too much to befriend, but who had changed his life completely. After what happened in the war, Kakashi still hasn't figured out how to feel about it all. "I lost it," he simply tells Hermione. Can't imagine going into further detail. "Naruto replaced it for me, so I can see, but it's a normal eye now. With the power it had, it drew from my chakra every time I used it. It made sense to keep it closed most of the time. Now, I should relearn to keep it open."

"I'm sorry," Hermione says. "but I'm still not sure that gives you reason to knock my kunai down?"

Kakashi has the feeling he got off too easily, but he takes what he can get. "Maa," he says, "moving targets _are_ better practice you know."

"Excuses," Hermione answers. Her lips are pushed together like when she tries to avoid smiling, and she shakes her head. More hair sticks across her face and she reaches up to remove it.

"Just the ones that will miss the board?" Kakashi suggests. "Then you won't have to walk as far to pick them up." He cocks his head and Hermione laughs.

"Fine," she says. "Fine. But only the ones who will miss completely."

Nodding, Kakashi watches as she turns back to the target. It's becoming rare that she misses completely. Her fingers are still too firm around the handle as she gets ready to throw, but it's gotten better. The kunai comes up, passes her cheek, and with a little bit of timing…

"Waa!" Kakashi calls out. Hermione flinches, the kunai flies wide, and he throws a shuriken after it.

The death glare Hermione sends him should be recorded for the history books. This time it's not negligence that leaves the blade in her hand as she points at him, taking a step forward.

"What?" Kakashi questions. He holds his hands out and widens his eyes. "It would have missed." Dancing away from the hand coming to slap him over the head, Kakashi puts his hand in his pockets and shrugs. "I don't know why you're mad, you said…"

"Rules," Hermione's voice matches the kunai she waves at Kakashi. "We are going to have rules." The angry lines around her mouth and over her forehead makes the spark in her eyes clearer with its contrast. Kakashi smiles.

Unfortunately, Hermione is intelligent. Before she throws the last kunai of the set, she makes sure to close every loophole Kakashi can use. With chakra, he could find a few, but not like this. Not even pouting helps. For next practice, he'll have to make her move further back so she misses more often.

.oOo.

Hermione is predominantly happy. Kakashi likes riling her up, and playing into it might encourage him, but it's also fun. A lot of fun. His humour varies between desert dry, provocative and cocky. Sometimes all three. Usually, Hermione wants to smack her head against the nearest hard surface even as she laughs. To return fire and challenge him has a way of giving the most unexpected outcomes. So far, he's stepped up and proved most of his outlandish claims to be true. It's glimpses of another Kakashi, more carefree and at ease with himself, and it's hard not to get pulled in by that.

She gives him permission to take down all the five kunai on her last round, and it's impossible not to laugh in awe at the results. It's like living with a one-man circus, she thinks, as he casually knocks her kunai out of the air with scary precision. In the back of her mind, however, there's an itch that won't leave her alone.

"Am I allowed to ask about the Hokage-thing?" They're back inside, seated at the table with tea and sandwiches, and she was never good at not scratching the itchy places.

Kakashi watches her, his eyes narrow but his shoulders loose. "I'm not about to give you free reign, if that's what you're hoping for," he says. The tone is easy, a continuation of their banter more than a serious answer. Hermione decides to take it as a go-ahead.

"You don't want it, do you?" she asks, cocking her head. Kakashi crosses his arms over his chest and glances out the window.

"No," he says.

"Why?" Hermione runs a finger along the rim of her teacup and makes sure to keep her tone light. "Does it have something to do with the loss of sight you were talking about?" Silence falls. A small indentation shows up between Kakashi's eyebrows, but his eyes doesn't stray from the window. "You don't have to answer," Hermione tells him, "it was just something I've been thinking about."

"I don't know," Kakashi says slowly. "Both?" He glances at Hermione before looking back out over the fields, rubbing his chin through the mask. "It's a weakness, but not one I shouldn't be able to account for. Given the current political climate we're unlikely to get attacked before I've had the time to adapt. Although on the other hand someone might see the opportunity and decide to use it. Either way, even without the sharingan I'm by far Konoha's strongest jōnin." A shrug finds its way to his shoulders. "There's no one else."

Hearing him casually acknowledging his strength is odd. Hermione's brought up with the notion that she needs to hide her intelligence. To acknowledge it would mean admitting she thinks she's better than other people, which is supposedly the same as finding them stupid. And no one like's people who thinks others are stupid. That she very rarely thinks that apparently has nothing to do with it. She wonders what it would be like, to shamelessly admit her strength as easily as she does her weaknesses.

"But?" Hermione prompts when Kakashi fails to follow up on his answer. For once he seems thoughtful rather than reluctant, and she intends to make the most of it. It might have been one of the things on his mind as he was falling apart the other day, but it can still be discussed in a lighter tone today. And maybe, Hermione thinks, that's part of the key to getting Kakashi to tell her things. Some of his biggest revelations so far has come when he's been teasing her. She can do this his way. Probably.

Dark grey eyes flicker to Hermione for a second. Whatever he sees in her, it must be right. "We're not at war anymore." He shrugs while speaking.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Hermione lets her disbelief leak through her voice and exaggerates her facial expression. This doesn't have to turn into a heavy conversation, she can be casual.

An eyebrow rises. "They didn't pick me because I'm the best at _not_ fighting." Kakashi uses his dry tone, and despite the conditioned feeling of joking that is supposed to bring, Hermione feels like someone blasted a hole in her abdomen. That's what it all boil downs to then.

"Nor for your great taste in books," she says. Lightly. "Or your humbleness." She takes a bite of her sandwich, speaking around it for her next words. "So, what will your job be?"

Kakashi shrugs. "Getting the village back to strength. Making sure we're not thrown into a new war. Having Icha-Icha translated to English. Sending someone with a copy and the order to sit on you until you've read it."

"You know," Hermione forces her grin only a little bit, "I can be awfully stubborn. I bet I can wear them down. If not, I could always start crying and see what they'd do."

"Don't traumatize my shinobi." Kakashi makes a pained face. Smiling sweetly now, Hermione flutters with her eyelids and clasps her hands together. A thud echoes through the kitchen as Kakashi's forehead hits the table. "Or me," he says weakly. It's impossible not to laugh.

"Well, I guess you'll have your hands full without torturing me. Being Hokage sounds like a hard job." It's a not very subtle nudge back to the initial subject, but Hermione can't make herself care.

"No kidding." The table distorts Kakashi's voice before he lifts his head up. "And diplomacy and relationships are my strongest sides," he continues, "as I'm sure you're aware."

"Don't sell yourself short," Hermione says. Some things can't be allowed to pass by unchallenged, no matter if she means for this to be an easy conversation or not. It's not that she doesn't get what Kakashi is saying, but he's come a far way in the short time she's known him. He should know that. "You've handled me being a mess these last weeks like a pro." It comes out softer than intended, but Hermione doesn't mind. Every word of it is true, and she's grateful. He should know that.

There's no answer, only arms being crossed and a lack of facial expression.

"Tsunade agrees with me," Kakashi finally says, as if that settles it.

Unsure what to make of that, Hermione can feel her eyebrows draw together. "Huh?" she manages around the sour taste in her mouth.

"That's why I'm here," Kakashi explains, as if it's nothing more than the answer to yet another of Hermione's questions about chakra. His tone indicates it's a stupid one. "Tsunade's old," he continues, "and didn't want the hat to start with. She'll be expected to retire now, and the job will go to me. So; she took me out of the picture."

For a few seconds, nothing is said. Hermione feels inadequacy like a black hole in her abdomen. No wonder becoming Hokage was on Kakashi's mind a few days ago if that's why he thinks he's here. And Hermione surely made it about a thousand times worse with her comment about this so-called mission. "Did she tell you that's why she did that?" she asks, because there could be another explanation.

"She didn't exactly need to," he answers, sounding tired.

The need to push for more details is overwhelming, but Hermione bites her tongue. Literally. "Or," she says instead, "and I'm just guessing here, she decided you needed a break? _Maybe_, she took a long look at you this winter and realized one added thing on your plate would drive you into the ground? _Maybe_, she sent you away for your own sake?"

"Maybe," Kakashi leans back and arrange his face in a smile that's one hundred percent fake, "you don't know Tsunade at all?"

"I don't." Hermione agrees, "but I know you, and I guess she does too." A fire is burning in Hermione's chest, making her fingers itch. It's unclear whether slapping Kakashi or hugging him would have the best chance of calming her, so Hermione does neither. She changes subject instead. "By the way," she says, "when exactly is it that you're leaving? Because I'm going home for that wedding in September."

Some of the tension leaves Kakashi and he raises his book to finish his sandwich. "The 26th," he says. "Why?"

"I…" Hermione stalls. This is actually a bad idea, isn't it? "Do you want to come?" she asks before she can change her mind. "I can't invite you to the wedding, obviously, since it's not mine, but you'd be welcome to everything else. I mean, you could see where I come from, and it'd be somewhere I can actually do magic, which would make answering some of your questions a lot easier, and…" The thought's been on her mind for a long time, but it seems awkward and presumptuous when she says it out loud. Why on earth would he want to tag along when she's visiting her parents and friends? And what makes her think he'd be interested in her wand waving? Couldn't she have grasped one of the other straws in her mind in her rush to change topic? Something that doesn't make her come off less clingy?

"When is this?" Kakashi says, the bread forgotten halfway between his mouth and the table. Over his book, his eyes are wide.

"The wedding's the 21st," Hermione tells him. "And I've planned to be home about a week in total, but I haven't decided the exact days."

"And you want me to meet your parents? And your friends?"

The opinion that this makes Hermione insane is not said in words, but it's there all the same. "What?" she laughs, "are you scared?" Kakashi's eyes narrow.

"I'm not scared of civilians," he says. "I'm just not very good with them, especially parents."

"Oh, so you've been introduced to someone's parents before? Whose?" Not teasing him is unimaginable, and Hermione can feel herself smile widely. "Was it awkward?"

"Yes," Kakashi answers dryly. "Sakura's. Not really, mostly formal and boring." Hermione tries to imagine how it would have looked, Kakashi meeting the parents of the twelve-year-old whose survival depended on him, but she can't. There's too much she doesn't know about how things work in Konoha.

"Well," she says instead, "my parents aren't very formal, so you'll be safe there." Simply saying it almost makes her cringe, watching her mother's curiosity clash with Kakashi's silence could fall anywhere between hilarious and supremely uncomfortable.

Kakashi hums. "I'll think about it," he says and gets back to his sandwich.

.oOo.

Hermione clearly doesn't understand that "I'll think about it," means "no." Maybe Kakashi should have guessed, she's very straightforward in most things, but he responded automatically. It's really only his own fault that she spent a good five minutes trying to convince him. Even so, he goes to bed without having agreed. Most of him is refusing, but there's also a small piece whispering about magic and being able to see it in real life.

The mattress is amazing compared to the couch. He's rolled it out in a corner of the living room because the ground floor only holds kitchen, living room, bathroom, and Hermione's bedroom. Apart from the master bedroom there's an office upstairs, but that whole floor feels private and strange. It's for the house owners, not for him. Besides, the living room is far better from a tactical point of view.

On her way from the bathroom, Hermione stops in the doorway. "Good night," she says, like she usually does. Only she stays, afterward, silently watching Kakashi. He wonders if it's too late to pretend he's already asleep. With the window behind him she shouldn't be able to make out if his eyes are open or closed.

"Listen," Hermione hesitates, "I just…" She bites her lip, and Kakashi's increasingly certain that she'll say something he doesn't want to hear. "If you don't know Tsunade's reasons, don't project the worst possible ones. I know it's easier said than done, trust me, but it's…" She shakes her head slowly. "Either ask her, or accept the fact that you don't know. Okay?"

Kakashi is definitely going to pretend he's asleep. Closing his eyes, he keeps motionless except for the rise and fall of his ribcage as he breathes. In his mind, her words echo back and forth. "Sleep tight," Hermione says, and Kakashi listens to her steps as she walks away. When she's gone to bed, he stares at the space she occupied. He rubs a hand over his eyes.

Somehow, Hermione had tricked him into talking about the Hokage-thing. Kakashi has no clue how to feel about that; and apparently, Jón's thing about interpreting emotions have stuck with Kakashi more than he ever wanted it to. It's much better to avoid feeling when it comes to matters like this. Analysing himself risk making things worse, he needs to stop asking himself how he feels.

Rolling over on his back fills Kakashi's view with white ceiling. He takes a slow, deep breath. Hearing some of the things Hermione had to say hurt, but not necessarily in the way he would have expected. He does, however, know she's wrong. In fact, if Tsunade _didn't_ send him away to protect the village she's wrong too. All of it keeps bouncing about in his head; Tsunade's order, his words, Hermione's input. Around around around. Rolling over again Kakashi presses his face into his pillow, wishing for the world to leave him alone. In the end, he meditates himself to sleep. Only, losing consciousness means losing focus, and his dreams are filled with disjointed voices arguing.


	23. Chapter 23

AN: This chapter isn't finished. It's not what I wanted it to be, but it's not getting much better either. The plan was also to have most of next chapter written before publishing this, and I apologize in advance for leaving this off where I do.

But whatever, I can't really make myself care at the moment because I'm having a horrible day and I need to hear from someone that I'm not doing this for nothing. Hopefully some response will make writing easier again. Maybe I've been sending one too many job applications out lately, having them disappear into black holes with, at best, an automated thank-you-note for all my hard work. Maybe it's PMS that's coming on much too early, or my stiff shoulders giving me anxiety, or the way I've slept way too much for days and then almost nothing tonight. Maybe it's too much time confined in this mess of an apartment I can't make myself sort out. Probably, it's a little bit of all those, and I just need something to break the status quo. Either way, publishing usually makes me happy because you guys are amazing, and I love hearing what you think. Be honest, however, because that gives me the best inspiration. I haven't rewritten a chapter yet, but I can go back and change in this if you think it's too flat or weird or OOC, which I'm worrying about.

And here I was, just last chapter saying I would quit putting energy on ANs, but whatever to that as well. I needed to vent, and you guys were the one's who got it this time.

Love and hugs for everyone, you are my heroes!

/thosepreciouswalls

* * *

The possibility to see the midnight sun exists only in a short window of about a week. They're not far enough north for more, and the weather hasn't been on their side. Hermione's been imagining how it will be; the sunset changing to sunrise just above the valley, warm colours filling the skies and softening the world around her. In her mind, it's serene.

They plan to go that very evening, are just heading into town for some groceries and picknick things before the evening milking. At two o'clock, Hermione pulls the car to a stop in the courtyard at Heimstaðir. She waits. When there's an agreed upon time, Kakashi always shows up. Usually within minutes. While he still sleeps at Hermione's place – and she's going to talk to him about that, she _is_ – he spends his working days and most early evenings at Heimstaðir. He's only a temporary night guest at Hermione's house, for her sake.

When he's not there at five past she kills the engine. She doesn't have any patience for this today; her chocolate stash was empty before lunch and she's old enough to see the connection between the two. Great. At ten past she steps out of the car and walks the short distance to the door. The wind is a solid pressure against her side, but it's warmed by the first sunshine after days of rain. By now Hermione knows to step through what appears to be the front door, cross the unheated entryway and storage area that must once have been meant as a conservatory, and knock on the door leading into the actual house. There's no answer.

Hermione tries the door and finds it unlocked. "Kakashi?" she says, voice raised, "you in here?" Even with only Hermione's head and shoulders crossing the threshold, entering someone else's home uninvited feels sacrilegious. Add to that the silence of the house being undisturbed and heavy, and it feels logical to start the search outside.

Heimstaðir is an old farm, half the sheep shed a rickety old building with low ceiling and small windows. Huge bay doors open up towards the courtyard, letting in sunshine and fresh air that does little to mask the ingrained smell of animals, hay and ammonia. Hermione's never been in here, and she can see that Kakashi has his work cut out for him. With the lambing done and the sheep up on the mountainside for the summer he's been cleaning this place out, and it is not built with slots or bars in the floor where the manure can go down to be pumped out later. Getting the straw beds out will mean a lot of manual labour.

Going in, she misses him. Walks through the old part into the newer, airier one without sensing his presence. Maybe it's because she's being mindful of her clean clothes and shoes, trying not to rub against surfaces stained dark by fat wool over the winter and watches where she puts her feet. If she'd known she'd end up in here she'd have worn something else, but that what she gets for wanting to look proper for once. Either way, she doesn't see him on her way in, and he doesn't say a word.

On her way out her eyes have gotten used to the change in light and she's more familiar with the layout. She catches a glimpse of him then, sitting up on the small loft running along the left part of the old building. A narrow ramp takes her up there, and she ducks under the ceiling beams on her way towards him. He doesn't look injured, and Hermione feels the sting of irritation that he made her worry.

"Hey," Hermione says as she comes up to him, "you okay?"

There's no answer, merely a glance before he looks away again. A hatch is open in the boarded floor, and underneath it there's a pile of manure around a bright square that must somehow lead outside. Kakashi is sitting on the edge of the planks, his rubber boots ankle deep in sheep droppings and old hay, and his elbows resting on his knees. He looks empty. Tired.

"You're late," Hermione tells him, attempting to get a reaction. She knows he's said no one in Konoha would believe that she finds him punctual. He'd laughed for a full minute the first time she'd implied it. Now, the subject gets her no response. "What happened?" she tries instead.

"It broke." Following Kakashi's gaze Hermione sees the pitchfork laying in two pieces by his feet. It's old and worn, one of the tines crooked and the wood grey and cracked.

"Okay," she says, _without_ sighing, "I'm sure Sunna and Þorir will get you a new one." A crease is forming between her eyebrows, Hermione can feel it, but she smooths it away. Attempts to look relaxed despite Kakashi watching nothing but his boots. She's not sure she understands what this is about. From what little she's seen his employers don't strike her as the kind of people to get angry over a broken tool.

"There's one down by the door." Kakashi's words are matter of fact. The motion he does to look at the pitchfork in question is the smallest possible. Hermione traps her tongue between her front teeth. There's milking in less than two hours, and he's not the only one who's tired. Unclear dream has woken her over and over during the night, leaving her with a queasy feeling and a healthy dose of anxiety of her own.

"And you couldn't make yourself go get it?" He shrugs. "Maybe that's a sign to call it a day?" She doesn't have the energy for this, not really. Annoyance is writhing in the pit of her stomach, but she squashes it down.

"The plan was to get done with this today," Kakashi tells her. He looks up at her properly, forces something like normalcy onto his face.

"Does it matter?" Hermione can't help but ask.

"Yes." There's a hard quality to Kakashi's voice, like iron. Hermione swallows a sigh. It's tiredness and PMS, she tells herself, she shouldn't let it affect her. Should definitely not be taking it out on Kakashi.

"How about this then?" she forces herself to say casually. "I'll go get you that pitchfork. Then I go back to my place, change to more fitting clothes, grab another pitchfork, and come back to help out?" She won't be able to keep the mood up for both of them, not for long, but maybe she can fake it until she makes it. Or he does.

Kakashi's head dips down again. Around him dust swirls like tiny snowflakes in the diluted sunshine from a dirty window. Under the black mask Kakashi's chin is working, but nothing is said. It's been a long time since he was like this, way back before he started on anti-depressants. Hermione wonders what brought it out now. He's seemed good these last days, recuperated from whatever got to him up on the mountain almost two weeks ago.

"I'll take that as a yes." Hermione reaches across the pit between them, places a hand where Kakashi's arm meets his shoulder and lets her thumb rub across the joint. The muscles are tense under her fingers, but unmoving. After a few seconds she withdraws and goes to get the pitchfork. It's too bad on the chocolate, but she'll survive. Kakashi looks like he needs her help more than she craves sugar and cocoa. Coming back, she takes his side of the open hatch, crouches down and stabs the pitchfork down into the pile at Kakashi's feet. He doesn't react.

"Hey," Hermione says, her hand finding its way back to Kakashi's shoulder. "It'll be okay, we'll fix it. It's only a pile of crap." The smile she presses her lips into is close to painful, and completely wasted since Kakashi isn't looking. It feels like she's pumping what energy she has straight into a black hole.

The feeling is unfair, she knows. Because he found the energy for her, for weeks. Let her wake him in the middle of the night without complaining. Let her cry on him, no matter how uncomfortable that must have made him. He's still sleeping on a mattress on her living room floor for Merlin's sake. He's allowed to be a black hole for a few hours, because without him she wouldn't have the energy to lose to it. She'd still be weeks behind on rest and jacked up from fear.

It's just, he's having the worst timing for it.

A small crystal sphere catches Hermione's eyes as it falls from Kakashi's face. It reflects the sunlight, shining bright against his dark clothes. For a second, it feels like the time stops. Okay. She needs to re-evaluate this. Clearly, she's been missing something vital. This is more than tiredness. Forcing her attention away from her own heavy body and tight chest for a minute she studies Kakashi's profile. His face is hidden from the way he sits, but the listlessness is in his every angle. Like something in him gave up.

Hermione moves the hand on Kakashi's shoulder to his back, placing it between his shoulder blades. Kakashi hunches down a few more inches and presses his wrists against his forehead. "You should go," he says, voice calm. Through his back Hermione can feel how measured his breaths are, but also the stutter of his heartbeat.

"Yeah?" There's shopping to be done, cows to milk, and a trip to be prepared. And by the looks of it Kakashi won't be much help. She scratches her ear. Giving in to his wish is tempting, but she's not convinced leaving now is the right thing.

"Yes." He answers, dead certain.

Crouching in her jeans is cutting the blood flow to Hermione's legs, but she's not prepared to move, not yet. "What if I don't?" she asks. She might be coming on too strong, she knows, but deciding to stay unfortunately hasn't turned her into a saint. Just because her dedication trumps her edginess it can't magically take it away.

"Is it necessary to turn this into a fight?" Annoyance is lacing Kakashi's voice and a muscle in his back flex under Hermione's palm. She wonders if she's supposed to listen to him and walk away, but he hasn't made a single move to get away from her touch. Is in fact leaning into it more since he lowered his head and added to the curve of his back.

"Why?" she asks instead of responding, making an effort to keep her voice calm and soft. He hasn't failed to answer her questions yet, hasn't backed up his words with actions, or repeated his request. "Give me one reason."

"Shinobi don't show tears." The answer comes out squashed, forced out between clenched teeth. It feels like Hermione's ribcage is ripped wide open. This place here, in between being let in and shut out, makes the world harsh and barren. Isolated. She's allowed to know, but not to help, and that's an impossible thing to reconcile with. The grain of frustration in her abdomen is watered with pain.

"I can close my eyes." It slips out in a moment of inattention. A literal solution to a problem that is anything but, and not at all the right thing to say. Shit. She needs to learn to watch her tongue. Her own tiredness and bad mood are not an excuse to be a sarcastic asshole.

Kakashi doesn't walk away. He doesn't get angry or snap at her. To Hermione's bewilderment he laughs instead. Desperately. With a voice full of cracks and his arms hiding his face. It's enough to draw a smile to Hermione's face. Maybe, sarcasm is an acceptable response after all? That's what he usually requires anyway; not a shoulder to cry on but distraction to anchor him. They are not the same, and who is she to say her way of dealing is the better one?

Withdrawing her hand from Kakashi's back and returning it to his shoulder Hermione gives him a light shove. "It's not my fault it's phrased like that," she says. "I _told you_ it's a stupid rule."

And from one second to the next; Kakashi breaks.

.oOo.

He's losing it. Everything. Obviously. Can't even make himself stand up. Stares at the broken pitchfork and wonders when he sat down. It's a genjutsu. Must be. Disrupt his chakra flow. Bring it down, then… Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing is responding. Not his chakra. Not his legs. Not his willpower. There's no fear. Only empty weariness and a sense he should be doing something. Anything. More.

Moving is possible, he knows. He breathes. Blinks. Lifts his arm to wave away a fly. But he can't make himself get up and get the new pitchfork by the door.

Hermione shows up, because of course she does. He was supposed to meet her, later. Or earlier, given her reaction. He hears his own answers to her question and find them ridiculous. How is he supposed to run a village when he can't even do this?

She offers to help. Doesn't. Get. It. Because this is nothing. He can't need help with this. But Hermione is Hermione. Kind. Present. Spouting some nonsense about how they'll fix it. Like this shit ends with the pile in front of him. Like tools don't break, and if they do you discard them and get new ones. Like he won't be digging through the upcoming mess with his bare hands and lives on the line.

Tears form. Fall. He can't think clearly enough to find that detached place inside him to stop them. Pretends they don't exist instead. Tries, and fails, to drive Hermione away. She knows. Can't not know, but still jokes with him. The laughter boils in him, painful and soothing at the same time. The numbness falls apart. It hurts. Everything. He can't breathe. Realizes he's sobbing. Shouldn't be. Can't remember ever doing that for his parents. Or his teammates. Or anything else. Over a broken pitchfork that doesn't even matter. Then cries because of that. It's absurd. _He's_ absurd. Insane. Apparently.

Arms circle him. Draw him in. He should protest and shake them off. Regain his dignity. Leans in instead. If he's already lost his mind, what does it matter?

.oOo.

Hermione realizes she never honestly thought Kakashi would get to the point of crying. Not in front of her. He's been fighting it too stubbornly, and it's in his mindset to win his battles or die trying. She does know, however, that she's not always right – no matter what anyone says.

There's not much she can say, so she pulls him into a hug. That he goes with it tells her everything she needs to know. For a moment, her anxiety shifts into fear. What if this is more than she can handle? They haven't known each other that long, and she has no idea what's dragging Kakashi down. This is nothing like the heart of the DA leaning on each other after the war, taking turns to be the strong one. With Kakashi she's alone, and possibly far out of her depth. Not that it matters either way, because she has no intention of leaving. If she'd let her fears run her life, nothing would ever get done.

Time loses its sense of meaning, it has a way of doing that. At one point, Hermione moves them the two feet to lean against the wall. The plaster is cold, contrasting the warmth from Kakashi at her side. He's curled up against her, knees drawn close to his body and head resting halfway on Hermione's chest and halfway on his own legs. When he calms down wetness has seeped through Hermione's sweater, making the t-shirt she wears underneath sticky against her skin.

"You want to talk about it?" Hermione's words feel loud in the silent building, no matter how softly she speaks them. There's no answer, because of course there isn't. Only a minute twitch followed by Kakashi going still. "You don't have to." She gives in to the urge to run her fingers through his hair where it tickles against her throat. It's softer than it looks, sliding effortlessly through her fingers with the lack of styling products to keep it in place. A shaky breath leaves Kakashi and Hermione lets her hand rest at his neck for a moment before repeating the motion. He swallows.

Staying in place, she gives Kakashi whatever time he needs. Lets him rest against her and feels the tension slowly seep out of his muscles. His ball loosens up, his breaths even out, and more and more of his weight transfers to Hermione. She's worried that once he's reminded where he is, walls will slam down hard enough to fling them apart. A quieter, embarrassed part of her, is also worried that the opposite will happen; that she'll never get him back the way he was. Closing her eyes, Hermione tries to plan ahead, playing out scenarios and searches for her next steps. It's impossible, she knows, only a theoretical exercise to make her feel less lost, but it at least gives her a start.

.oOo.

Hermione doesn't say a thing about it. Except for asking if he wants to talk. As if he'd know what to say.

Following that, she acts like nothing ever happened, only bossier. Orders him to his feet, walks him inside, has him take a shower. After, with a clean mask and eyes that no longer sting it gets easier to pretend. For both of them. Kakashi doubts he's doing a good job, knows he's not following Hermione's chatter like he should, but can't make himself care. He hasn't felt this washed out and lightheaded since he landed himself in the hospital after overusing Kamui.

The urge to crawl into his own bed, behind a closed door, is almost too strong to resist. Kakashi wants to disappear from the world. Cease to exist. At least for a little while. He definitely doesn't want to look Hermione in the eye, or catch her watching him. Which she does. He knows she does. But she needs his presence to feel safe, and this is not the time to further inconvenience her. This is giving him a debt to her he's not sure he can repay as it is.

.oOo.

Over the course of milking Hermione begins to accept the fact that she might not get to see the midnight sun. It's a selfish thought, and she would have preferred to not have it, but it's not leaving. Considering the hollowness Kakashi had displayed as she herded him home she doubts he'll be going anywhere tonight, and she will not leave him behind. Not today. Not by choice. The midnight sun comes around every year, she tells herself, she's got plenty of summers left to come back and experience it. Kakashi on the other hand, feels like he might slip through her fingers any moment. The thought alone pours ice through her veins.

Working with animals, she does her best to keep her thoughts and feelings in check. Cattle are surprisingly susceptible to emotions, and even with her calm outward appearance they call her out; restlessly shifting their weight and working against her in small ways. When one of the cows who keeps kicking the machine off refuses to move her hind legs close enough together to be tied up, Hermione can't help the groan that escapes her throat.

"Bad day?" Kristín asks her from across the aisle.

Hermione sighs and coordinates an attack where she leans into the cow's thigh with her shoulder and uses her knee to try and force the leg into place. It gives her an inch, no more. "Just PMS," she tells Kristín, and it's not a lie. Not that it's the whole truth either. Another attack and the leg finally moves into place. Hermione grabs the rope she has slung across her shoulder.

"We don't have a lot left," Kristín says, "once we've finished, I'll take the feeding and clean up the milk room."

Hermione tries to protest, but it gets her nowhere. Kristín simply lets her know it's not a discussion and Hermione can pay her back when she's feeling better. Fighting her requires energy, so Hermione doesn't.

Being let out early means Hermione can afford a minute outside her front door. From the barn she can hear the rumble of the low tractor they use to dole out hay, meaning Kristín is away from the windows and can't see her. There is no way to tell what shape Kakashi is in before entering. Although, _if_ he's closed off enough to act normal once again, she might still get to go and see the midnight sun. Guilt washes over her at the thought. Surely, she shouldn't hope he will hide how he feels for that reason alone? It's selfish and unfair.

Only, she's tired. And postponing this until tomorrow might not be so bad? She wants him to trust her, wants to be let in, and she'll take tonight if that's what offered; but that doesn't mean she can't _prefer_ another time, can it? Shame threatens to drown her. It's not even how she really feels. If he needs her, nothing else is more important. Merlin, PMS really fucks her up. No wonder she gets anxious with the way her mind works in overdrive, tripping itself up over every little thing.

Kakashi, though. He matters. More than her own comfort or any view, no matter how pretty. Definitely more than her PMS-induced self-pity and issues with changed plans. He's her friend, and he might need her. There should be no hesitation before stepping inside. She's a Gryffindor after all, she was not raised to avoid difficulties.

As it turns out, there's no crisis to avert. Kakashi is seated on the couch with one of his books, his head bobbing in response to Hermione's greeting. She takes the chance to slip into the shower. If they're going it's not for another three or four hours, and either way she wants the smell of cow washed off her skin. That it also saves her from having to figure out what to do about Kakashi for another fifteen minutes is only a coincidence.

Dropping into an armchair and pulling her legs up under her, Hermione scrolls through the news on her phone. She's directly opposite Kakashi, and while her fingers automatically navigate the feed her eyes are only half on the screen. The rest of her is watching what's visible of her friend. His eyes are trained on the book, but as far as she can tell they're not moving. Over a minute floats by, the clock on the upper corner of the screen informs her, but not a single page is turned.

That sort of answers her unasked question about whether they're still on for tonight.

It's not until he looks up at her, one eyebrow raised, that Hermione realised he can probably tell he's being watched. Heat spreads across her face and she wraps one arm around her ribcage. Kakashi's eyebrow twitch upward in an obvious question. Hermione shrugs. "I was just thinking," she explains, "about how you are, and if I need to worry." She keeps the question out of her voice, not wanting to pressure him. No more than a few hours have gone by since he said he didn't want to talk about it, but it's impossible to just leave it be. Not when his face is so empty and his eyes so flat.

"No," Kakashi says, the muscles around his eyes tensing slightly with the word, "you don't have to worry. I'm perfectly able to do my job. You'll be safe." For a full second, Hermione can't breathe. A sour taste is spreading through her mouth, refusing to be swallowed down. She closes her eyes, but it doesn't take away the burn of Kakashi's stare.

"Tell me that's not the only reason you're here?" she manages. Forcing her eyes open she finds Kakashi's face blank. "Shit." She pushes her phone down between her leg and the armrest and rubs her hand over her eyes. "Okay. That's not…" Meeting Kakashi's eyes she takes a breath and tries to collect her thoughts. Why didn't she tell him earlier? "Look," she says, "it's not your skills that make me want you around. Yes, I was scared, but it's better, okay? It's better, but I don't want you to leave because I like having you here. Now, I understand if you don't want to. And I'll be okay, if that's the case. Just, I'm _not_ a job, okay?"

Hermione doesn't want to be calmly sitting here and meeting Kakashi's gaze. She wants to scream, or cry, or a number of less dignified reactions, but she doesn't. It's unclear which is worse, that he might have been sticking around only out of a sense of duty, or that he believes she only wants him here to protect her.

"Please don't leave though," she tells him, even if he's done nothing to indicate he will. He sits frozen, not a trace of his thoughts reaching his face. "I really don't like the thought of you being alone right now." It's not until she hears it out loud that Hermione realizes that it might not have been the best thing to say.

A frown settles on Kakashi's brow. "Why not?" he says, voice cool and distant. "I'm fine."

"Oh, come on," Hermione can hear her bad day taking over her voice, can pick out her exasperation as clear as her words, "you are _not fine_." Not good. Didn't she tell herself she was going to keep her own emotions out of this?

Opposite her, Kakashi's eyes narrow and his jaw tightens. The blankness of his face morphs into the stillness of a predator assessing a threat. "That's what you want, isn't it?" His anger is hard and cold, leaving his tone even. "For me to fall apart? So you can be the well-adjusted one? Get to save me?"

Pulling her head back as if slapped, Hermione opens her mouth to answer. Closes it again. Tears are pooling in her eyes and she's not sure if they're from anger or hurt. Or if they're solely for him. Either way she hates her own mercuriality. If she's been born a boy she'd have been able to handle this better. Or not, given how boys aren't raised to, but it's still unfair.

"No," she says when she finds her voice. It's shaky. "It's not what I want." He only lashed out, she tries to convince herself, he didn't mean it. "I want you to be happy. But I also want you to know you don't have to hide when you're not. That it doesn't make you less of a person. And I don't want you to shut me out." Hermione pauses for air and makes a point of catching Kakashi's eyes. "You're my friend," she tells him. "I've told you things no one else knows. I trust you, and I care about you." Kakashi turns his face away, but Hermione's come too far to consider backing down now. "I want to believe you when you say you're okay," she continues, "but I don't. Now, you didn't bat an eye when I needed you, why can't it be allowed to go both ways?"

"What if it can't?" It rips out of Kakashi, his voice rough in a way that not quite anger. When he turns back towards Hermione his eyes are dark. She opens her mouth to question the statement, and he answers before she can speak. "Because I'm a mess," he says. "Who let people down."

Kakashi's book is still raised between them, his knuckles turning white from the grip. Hermione wants to tell him he's never failed her, but she realizes that would be a lie. There are moments of inadequacy in every relationship, theirs included. "Who isn't?" she says instead. "And who doesn't? No one is infallible. I know for a fact I've hurt you, even if I never meant to. What matters is that when I really needed you, you were here. For me." Hermione's throat closes up. He didn't allow her to protect him by pushing him away, yet he's trying to do the same now. It's all so incredibly stupid.

"I can't talk about things the way you do," Kakashi says. "I just can't." It's close to a hiss, but Hermione focuses on the words, not the tone. He isn't arguing her point, is he, only what it brings with it. Catching her lower lips between her teeth Hermione cocks her head slightly. It suddenly seems easy.

"So, _don't_," she tells him. "I'm fine with you not sharing your past, if that helps. Just let me be here for you now."

The stillness that settles around Kakashi is of the kind that means he's micromanaging. Hermione doesn't know if that's better or worse. As he watches her in silence Hermione notes how her heart beats much too fast in her chest. "I'm tired," Kakashi finally says. "I'm going to bed." It's not even eight o'clock but Hermione sees no reason to point that out. She nods.

While Kakashi is in the bathroom Hermione takes the time to collect her thoughts. She has no idea how to judge her own actions today; her mind is still oscillating between irritation, sadness, guilt, and anxiety with the speed of lightning. She stands by her words though, as she recalls them, and maybe that's all she can hope for.

Kakashi _cried_ today. Honestly, genuinely, _cried_. She needs time to process that; to sit down on her own and separate her emotions from the facts, to look at it logically. There has been room for little else but responding since she found him in the sheep house, having gone straight from there to work and then back here. Maybe, she went at him harsher than necessary this evening considering he's clearly letting her in, if not as fast as she'd like. At the same time, she's gotten an important revelation of her own in their last conversation: She can live without knowing the whys as long as he doesn't bury the effects. The curious side of her, the one that needs the whole puzzle to understand the picture, balks at the idea, but the rest agrees. She can survive without the details, if that's what Kakashi needs. It's better than the option.

.oOo.

Saru, Tatsu, Ne, Tori, Mi, Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu, Ne, Tori, Mi, Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu – Kakashi sits on the closed toilet seat and lets his hands work the familiar seals. Again and again. Over and over. Goes through the motions until his mind is empty. Until he can keep the sensation of signing even without moving his arms. He stands then. Brushes his teeth. He's done with this day.

Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu, Ne, Tori, Mi, Ushi – for a long time it's been his escape when his mind refuse to shut up. If he can fall asleep in between watches on a mission, he can fall asleep now. He's done with this day.

Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu, Ne, Tori, Mi, Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru – Hermione's still in the living room when Kakashi exits the bathroom. He should go back to his room at Heimstaðir, but can't make himself do much of anything. This bed is the closer one. Hermione is talking to him, and he hears the words but files them away for later. He's done with this day.

Tatsu, Ne, Tori –his mind stutters momentarily on the bird seal. Snake's next, he reminds himself, – Mi, Ushi, Inu – "Listen," Hermione continues, "You'll be leaving in less than three months, and it will hurt. Terribly. And maybe that will get worse with more time, but this – you clinging to your distance – it hurts as well. I can't breathe for it. And I'm not saying that to make you go now, I'm telling you I'd rather get what time's left and take all the pain later."

Mi, Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu, Ne, Tori, Mi, Ushi, Inu, Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji – Kakashi keeps his focus on the seals. Doesn't even try to decode Hermione's tone and body language. Doesn't let her words be anything but a meaningless string of sounds. He'll think about it later. Along with everything else. Right now, he can't allow himself to. He'll go insane for sure. If he isn't already. It's this day though. Only this day. And he's done with it. Tomorrow will be different. It must be.

Uma, Tora, I, Hitsuji, U, Saru, Tatsu – he drifts off to the rhythm of the basic seals and dreams of training and battles.

* * *

AN: There you have it. Let me know what you think!


	24. Chapter 24

AN: I love you!

I just… Wow! I. Love. You. Like, so, SO much, and I can't even figure out how to say it right. Just know I do. Your response after last chapter really turned my day (and week, and coming week) around. I managed to do a lot of stuff I had to get done, I feel more hopeful about ever getting a new job, and I've been writing too. It's all thanks to you, and I'm incredibly grateful. Now that I've published this, I plan on taking the time to answer all of you (who have signed reviews so it's possible) individually.

I meant to have this published over a week ago, but on the other hand it's twice as long as I had planned, so maybe that's a fair trade. I hope you like it.

* * *

"I can't get up." Kakashi isn't meeting Hermione's eyes as he says it, is staying turned to the wall. Hermione is back from milking, has had time to change clothes and wash her hands, and he's still in bed. On a workday. It's not a good sign, especially after the day before, Hermione knew that before she knelt by the side of his mattress. What she'd never have guessed is that he'd be the one to speak first, saving her the trouble of coming up with an opening.

"Okay," she answers, her gut tightening from something more painful than the already present hunger. "Should I call a doctor?"

What little she sees of Kakashi's right eye disappears behind the eyelid as it closes. He huffs. "I doubt they could help." The words are matter of fact. "It's either a genjutsu or…"

In the silence Hermione allows herself to reach out. Grasping his shoulder, she tugs lightly. He lets her, rolls over on his back, but his face remains turned away. "Or?" she prods. She's beginning to suspect she knows what this is about, recognizes the signs even if she herself always made it out of bed and to the couch. There were others who weren't as lucky, but she hadn't been the one to deal with them. For the first time she wishes she'd found out from Hanna, Ernie, or Susan exactly how they'd handled Neville for the month he couldn't stand on his own, but when it was a thing she hadn't been much help to anyone.

"Am I going crazy?" It's not quite a whisper. Through the mask Hermione can see tension run from Kakashi's jaw down the tendons of his neck.

Allowing herself the space of one inhale, Hermione collects her thought. "I don't think it's a genjutsu," she starts, "although you would know that better than me. Nor do I think you're going crazy." Hermione lets the hand still resting on Kakashi's shoulder trace his arm under the comforter. "I think," she continues, "that you've been through a lot of crazy things, and that this is a pretty sane response to that. I also sort of believe that sometimes our lives undermine the foundation that we've built them on, and it becomes inevitable for it to come crashing down. I think it needs to, so we can stop trying to keep the pieces together and focus on getting better for real."

Hours of manual labour has brought callouses to Hermione's hands, and they snag on the fine fabric of Kakashi's combined mask and sleeveless shirt as she comes back up and runs a distraught finger along his collarbone. It's an intimate gesture, too intimate between friends most likely, but he doesn't shy away. Instead, he turns his head towards her, and Hermione moves the hand to rest against the side of his face, her thumb brushing over his cheek. Above it, eyelids twitch tighter together, and tears roll noiselessly down his temples. It's a different kind of crying from what Hermione saw yesterday, a deeper sort of weariness and sorrow. This, she thinks, is capitulation. She swallows, and thanks her lucky stars she is stronger today or she'd be crying as well. "It gets better from here," she tells him, praying to a god she does not believe in that she isn't lying.

"How would you know?" Kakashi questions, because of course he does. He opens his eyes while waiting for the answer, searching for something in her face. Hermione gives him the tiniest of smiles, no more than a flutter of the corners of her mouth.

"It did for me." She shrugs. "When I finally gave up trying to hold together the person I had been before things happened, and moved on to figuring out who I was after. And it hurt. God, some of it _still_ hurts, but it's easier to deal with now, and it's more good and less bad these days." A few tears escape when Hermione blinks, but there's no calling them back. Her chest feels constricted and is filled with a writhing mass that makes her nauseous. "Just stop trying to go back or remain in place, and start fighting to move forward and you'll be fine, okay?"

Kakashi nods, a little wide-eyed, and Hermione swipes at her eyes and offers him a small smile. "Now scoot over," she says. A wrinkle appears between Kakashi's eyebrows at the command, but he complies. Hermione slides down next to him, inserts an arm between his neck and the pillow, and draws him in. He melts into the contact, boneless and pliant in a way that's all wrong but not entirely bad. It's warm under his comforter, and cosy. The perfect antidote to PMS if she's perfectly honest. "To get back to the subject," she says into his hair, "you don't have to get up. I'm good right here, and I'm not leaving."

It's sappy, she knows, but maybe a little sappiness can be allowed. Sometimes. And for a short period.

Apart from crying herself, she thinks she handled this okay. The risk is that her tears freaked Kakashi out, making him think that helping him is hurting her. It's the kind of angsty thought that won't leave her alone if she doesn't deal with it. "For your information," she tells him, "I'm fine, even if I'm crying. Don't worry about me. I mean, I know I'm supposed to be the composed one here, and I am, sort of. I just got some really badly timed PMS."

"I don't even know what that means," Kakashi answers, taking the bait of distraction. Hermione can't help the chuckle that escapes her. How many times hasn't she used the word, only to find out _now_ he doesn't know what it is. She shouldn't be surprised though, not really. Harry and Ron hadn't known either, once upon a time. In some ways school failed them extensively when it came to education.

"It stands for PreMenstrual Syndrome," she says, "and it can be different things, but what most people mean is the mood changes before the period. Like, things that I'd normally be able to bottle up just goes spilling all over the place. Like, my walls come down for a full two days. I can't brush anything aside, whether it's things that make me angry or sad or hurt or happy; and anyone of them can make me cry. The worst is if it happens in the middle of a fight, because then I'm just an overemotional girl who has a fit, no matter how valid my point is."

Kakashi glances up at her, and she can see how he'd have a hard time finding a response. She offers him a small smile. "Really," she says, "don't worry about it, it'll pass. Just know that if I'm reacting funnily right now that's the reason. It just sucks being a woman sometimes." Hermione disentangles one of her hands to remove a wayward wisp of hair from her face. "Although," she adds as an afterthought, "I guess guys don't get menstrual hubris, which is too bad for you."

"And what is that?" Kakashi asks, reluctantly. He looks tired, and sounds uncomfortable, and maybe this wasn't the conversation he needed right now. Well, Hermione thinks, though luck for him, some knowledges are simply required for everyone to have.

"That's what hits after the PMS, when the anxiety passes, and it feels like you can do anything. It's pretty awesome." Her smile this time is the real deal, she could definitely do with some confidence and hopefulness right now, and it's nice to remind herself it's coming.

Nothing more is said, and the warmth combined with the rhythm of Kakashi's breathing at her side is dragging Hermione down. She should probably stay awake, make sure to be here if Kakashi needs her, but she'll hear if he speaks, won't she? Just a light doze shouldn't hurt.

.oOo.

Kakashi has no idea what to make of Hermione most of the time, and now is not an exception. Not that he knows what to make of much of anything at the moment. Having just learnt about PMS, he knows he should want to revisit a few memories and look at them in this new lightning, but he doesn't. Can't make himself interested in the explanations it might bring. He feels numb, and not in a good way. Like he's lost the ability to care about things. It's a cold sensation, all consuming and paralyzing. And maybe that's why he told Hermione the truth about how he's doing; because nothing really matters anyway.

_Start fighting to move forward_, Hermione told him, but Kakashi doesn't know how to find the motivation for any more fighting. Not when he needs to pee but can't find the will to get up and go to the bathroom. Although that's mostly Hermione's fault at this point. Having her next to him chases away some of the coolness and being curled into her side makes the paralysation seem more like relaxation. Like laying here in the middle of the day can be a choice, not a failing. It's nice to be able to pretend, if only for a little while.

She doesn't think he's going insane. That's good at least. Not that she's necessarily right, about that or the genjutsu, but there where things she said that he wishes he'd have a clearer memory off. Something about being so focused on building yourself up that you miss the ground under you crumbling. Because that's what he's done, isn't it? Has had everything threaten to fall apart around him and solved it by simply covering the unstable parts up with more work and more training. Until he found himself on a pillar so high there was no way to get down, and suddenly realized it's bound to topple over.

Is this, now, the sense of falling then? The painless plummeting towards the ground? Or is it, like Hermione said, the _after_?

Kakashi can't make himself bring it up. Not now. He knows he will at some point, because he needs to be sure, but not now. His mind has been sluggish since yesterday, empty enough to leave Hermione's words and actions echoing in there. Further thought can wait until he's able to direct his brain with any precision. For now, the heavy, unmovable feeling that's been dominating his life since yesterday is being overtaken by weightlessness. It's tugging at him, pulling him in, and he's slept over twelve hours already but they were cold. This is not cold.

The only other occasions he can remember it being this impossible to stay awake, he's come to in the hospital. He hopes he won't this time as well. As if he has a choice either way. Unconsciousness retakes him, but this time there's no dreams.

.oOo.

Before stepping through the front door to Kristín and Ingo's house for lunch, Hermione calls Jón. She didn't think she'd be able to get him on the phone, but as luck gives it, he's not with a patient.

Introducing herself is awkward and complicated, especially since Jón lets her know that he can't confirm having any patients, nor would he talk about them if he had them. Hermione sighs. "Alright," she says, "I understand that, but maybe you could just listen? Kakashi has an appointment with you at two PM today, I know this, because I'm the one driving him. Either way, he's not coming because he fell apart to the point where he's curled up in bed, only barely able to go to the bathroom. And I won't be able to get him dressed and into the car, not today. Obviously he needs to be rescheduled, and when you do that your system will send an automatic text, to this phone, so you don't have to say anything. Just reschedule him." Hermione can her that frustration in her own voice and knows that Jón is likely to do so as well. It's not that she doesn't get why he's being difficult, but she's late for lunch, and Kakashi's on his own, and…

"I hear you," Jón says. "How are you doing in all this? Caring for a friend in need can be hard."

The good thing about speaking on the phone is that Hermione can make a face without being seen. "I've got my own therapist, thanks," she answers, and she knows it's ungrateful. "I'll be fine," she adds, attempting to soften the worst edges.

"Okay," Jón sounds unruffled. "Has your friend shown any signs he might harm himself?"

Dragging her free hand over her eyes Hermione hisses. "Shit," she says, "I didn't ask. I mean he doesn't seem to have the motivation, but you know about his dad, right?" The question is met with silence on the other end. "He killed himself, when Kakashi was five, leaving him an orphan?" Hermione shuts herself up by biting her lip, hard. "And if you didn't know that I just really broke his trust. Fuck. Please pretend I never said anything." She should get back to Kakashi, should make sure he's alright instead of spilling his secrets left and right. Jón might be his therapist, but that doesn't give Hermione any automatic right.

"I must have temporarily spaced out," Jón says, "I have no idea what your talking about." It's not true, obviously, and Hermione hopes Kakashi never decides to read his own medical journal because this will be in there, but it's nice that Jón is trying. "Look," Jón continues, "I have to go, but I've recently had a cancellation come up this afternoon. I've also got time for administration my last hour on Fridays, so if you tell me where your friend is staying, I can come by. How about that?"

Great, now Hermione feels like crying. She can't wait for the cramps to set in; those she can at least medicate away. "You don't have to," she tells Jón. It's his job after all, he shouldn't get personally invested in his clients.

"No," he agrees, "I don't have to, but I'm offering. Now, what's the address?" Hermione realizes she has no idea. "Call back to the reception and leave it with them," Jón says, "and I'll be by at around half past two."

.oOo.

With Kakashi's permission, Jón tells Hermione it's probably some kind of delayed stress reaction. Not that Hermione hadn't figured that out on her own already. "He doesn't come off as suicidal," Jón also says, "nor likely to do anything actively self-harming, but that might change."

Hermione nods. There's a tightness in her throat that hasn't left all day. "I figured as much," she answers, "I asked him after lunch." A shrug finds its way to her shoulders and she turns away from Jón's thoughtful look.

"There is the option of making him an inpatient," Jón tells her.

Completely reigning in the glare turns out to be impossible, but Hermione does her best. "Do you think that would be beneficial?" She wants what best for Kakashi, she really does, but she's never been admitted to a psych ward herself, and she reels at the thought of leaving Kakashi surrounded by strangers who know nothing about him.

"For him?" Jón answers, "no. Not at this time. But the option is there, just so you know."

"Noted." Hermione forces a smile. He's only trying to be considerate, not derogative. "So, where to now?"

"I told him to call in sick for all of next week, and I want to see him again Monday and Thursday if that works with you. If he's not gotten any better by then we'll need to re-evaluate and possibly get a physician involved." It sounds like a fair deal, Hermione thinks, so she nods. They're standing outside, by Jón's car, and the cold is beginning to get to her. She's meant to be milking in fifteen minutes.

"Thank you." Hermione means it. "You've gone above and beyond for this, and I…" she bites her lip, "just thanks, okay?"

"Don't be too grateful," Jón smiles, "he'll be paying for my time driving here so it was a good deal for me, I'll even be home earlier than usual." He narrows his eyes. "If it gets too much, or if you get worried that he might harm himself or someone else, you bring him in. The ER is open 24-7, and if you can't get him in the car, you call an ambulance. Alright?"

"I know the drill," Hermione answers.

Jón catches her eyes for a second. "I'm beginning to understand that," he says.

.oOo.

Kakashi thinks he'd be scared, if he had the energy for it. He's not. The world around him feels unreal, like a poorly executed genjutsu that's too easy to spot. Fuzzy. Echoing. Empty. At the same time: Sharp. Loud. Intrusive. Time passes in slow motion once he's in it, but in hindsight hasn't passed at all. Maybe that's what he gets for motionlessly watching the same piece of wall every minute he's alone. Turning his head makes the room spin around him, and it's not like the other walls are much different from this one.

Talking to Jón had been exhausting. He's used to speaking English by now, has done so for months, but the words are hiding from him today. It doesn't help that he needs to take care not to divulge anything he isn't supposed to. Nor does it help that tears keep forming in his eyes when he fails to answer Jón's questions.

He knows, afterwards, that Jón said some intelligent things. He just can't remember them. Should have written them down probably. It's impossible to focus like this, his mind flowing over the surface of thoughts and subjects without being able to grab onto any single one. It feels like betrayal.

The armchair he moved to before Jón came is comfortable enough. He doesn't have to go back to bed. Can't make himself get up either way. Drifts instead, no quite awake but not asleep either. Hermione's steps across the floor registers, but if she thinks he's sleeping she won't talk to him. Not until the steps come closer and a blanket settles over Kakashi's shoulders does he realize he was cold.

"I'm going out to work," Hermione tells him before the steps move away. For a second Kakashi feels a stab of disappointment that she kept her hands to herself, then an overwhelming guilt for wanting more from her. He's supposed to be stronger than that. Than _this_. For as long as he remembered he hasn't needed anyone to soothe him. Why start now?

The respite of sleep he's hoping for doesn't come. Instead his heart is hammering in his ears, much too fast considering he's stationary, and there's a jittery feeling in his arms and legs screaming at him to move. As if he stands a chance of finding energy for activity.

Of course, half-sleeping through the afternoon means Kakashi snaps awake at two o'clock in the night. He tries to go back under, to will himself into unconsciousness the way he would in between guard shifts, but nothing works. Not even meditating keeps his mind quiet for very long unless he focuses on actual movement, and he can't fall asleep _while_ signing. Which is probably just as well, because if his attention wandered and chakra leaked into the seals there'd be a world of trouble.

When the itch to escape gets impossible to ignore and the air in the living room feels like ash, Kakashi forces himself out of bed and into the kitchen. The book he brings is a decent distraction, but the storyline is getting a bit too familiar, leaving room in his mind for the shadows of other things.

In his chest, the churning feeling doesn't go away.

Kakashi presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. Sleeping is out. Meditation doesn't cut it. Reading isn't enough. If he moves around too much, he's bound to wake Hermione. Which might be good, actually, since she could distract him, but also _not good_. She'd been tired this evening, perfectly visible even through the haze, and it'd be selfish of Kakashi to want more of her at this point. Only, he doesn't know what to do.

Or does he? Several times, Hermione's told him she writes to clear out her mind when things get too much. Even Jón has suggested Kakashi finds some way to express himself, as horribly artsy as he made it sound. A memory of Hermione comes to mind. None of the identifying markers to put it in a context remain, but she told Kakashi she writes to figure out what she's thinking. And isn't that exactly what he wants? Some kind of order in the chaos that's his mind?

The grain of hopeful inspiration lasts until Kakashi is back at the table with a notebook and pen. He stares at the blank page in front of him and feels just as vacant himself. How is he supposed to determine what to write? This is stupid, he doesn't do things like this. Whatever you are thinking, Hermione's voice tells him, and Kakashi takes a breath. Entangles his left hand in his hair and props his head up.

He writes that he has no idea what to write, and that this is all dumb anyway.

Three hours later Kakashi's hand is aching, and he's at the point where his mind can't come up with a single thought. Hermione will be up in less than an hour, and he'd rather not have her find him here. Besides, he's tired now.

Burying the papers in the bottom of his bag to get rid of later, Kakashi admits to himself writing might not have been completely useless. When he lays down, he falls asleep within minutes.

.oOo.

On Saturday, it already feels like they're settling into a new routine. Hermione comes in from milking, washes up, wolfs down a banana, and crawls into bed with Kakashi. They sleep for another hour. It will mess up her nights, Hermione knows, but it's irresistible. She's really missed lying next to someone, and the deep peace that settles over her for that hour makes her sleep heavy and dreamless. If she dared, she'd suggest they share a bed over night as well, but that's more than she can possibly explain away as being for Kakashi's sake.

After breakfast they move to the couch and Hermione watches movies and tv series. Kakashi follows them occasionally and dozes off from time to time. It's nice. Perfect. Or it would be if Kakashi wasn't a wreck and Hermione didn't have a tight knot of worry sitting in her chest.

.oOo.

It's Kakashi who brings the subject of the midnight sun back up, right before Hermione goes out for her evening work on Sunday. She tells him it doesn't matter, she's not going to leave. Not right now. It's not like she could enjoy it either way. He responds that if that's the case he's coming. Arguing gets her absolutely nowhere; people who calls _her_ stubborn has no idea what they're talking about. "If you're allowed to make the choice to stay at home for me," Kakashi says, "I'm allowed to make the choice to go for you. I'll walk if I have to."

Hermione very much doubts he could, given he's only marginally straightened up from his slouch on the sofa, but she ends up folding all the same. Not even the fact that they've probably missed the window of time helps, and Hermione is running out of arguments. Kakashi's been coped up inside for days, who's she to say he shouldn't get out for a bit?

They go that same evening, the yellowing sun casting long shadows across the road where the valleys open to the north. Hermione plays Billie Eilish, and Kakashi is silently looking out the side window. Or sleeping, Hermione can't tell from the quick glances she can afford while driving. With over an hour to the viewpoint, the music ends before they get there and leaves them with only the sound of the engine running and tires on asphalt. It's a good album, perfect for the occasion, and Hermione is considering restarting it when Kakashi speaks.

"You said it gets better from here." His voice is low and careful, and Hermione can see him fiddling with his hands. "But how do you know? If it's about everything coming crashing down, how do I know I'm still not falling?"

"How do you mean?" Hermione wishes she could look at him properly, but maybe that limitation is exactly why he brought this up in the car.

"Falling doesn't hurt," he says, "the ground does. How do you know this isn't just the moments before I break every bone in my body hitting it?" It's a fair question, and Hermione hums as she thinks about it.

"I guess the metaphor has its weaknesses." A quick look shows Kakashi watching the road in front of them. "I don't think you'll hit the ground as you put it, because I think it's more like things blow apart in a single instance. I mean, I know I'm not a professional or anything, and I have no idea what Jón said, but for me it's been like a switch." She sucks her lips in between her teeth, changes gear, makes a turn, changes gear again, and goes on. "Why do you think you're still falling?"

In the corner of her eye Hermione can see Kakashi shrugging. "Shouldn't it be hurting?"

"Isn't it?" Hermione can't help but ask, because yes, he mostly seems tired, but that's not all there is. Kakashi shrugs again, offering no more verbal response. A careful exhale lets Hermione avoid a sigh. It feels like she's threading barefoot on a floor full of broken glass, with possible consequences far worse than a few cuts.

"I've had two major breakdowns," she tells Kakashi, "and I can't remember that part of them very well. I guess I was pretty out of it. I remember trying to keep it together before, and then sitting up in the rubble and wondering how to make any sense of it all." Heaviness settles in her stomach, echoing emotions from a time she'd rather not think about. "If we're sticking with the building-analogy there was so much tension keeping it together beforehand, and then that sort of snapped. After that…" She shakes her head lightly. Worries her lip. "Hitting the bottom came before the crash for me, I think. That's where you are desperate but can't cry, because you're keeping it all together. Once the equilibrium goes things are already on their way to get better. Or that's how it was for me."

"Falling didn't hurt, landing didn't hurt, but I knew if I put the pieces back the way they were nothing would get better," she continues. "The thing is, there's no way to leave anything behind, so to make a better building I had to really take a look at the jagged, unstable pieces. Fix them where I could, smooth out some edges, and then find a place for them to fit. Does that make any sense?" In the corner of her eye Hermione can see Kakashi nodding jerkily. "That part did hurt." Her insides clench at the memory. "It was agony trying to find out what brought everything down, and even worse to go poking at it, but it was also cathartic. I came to some important realizations, and I'm not sure what I would have done without them. It's not like I'm saying I'm glad it came to the point where I broke, but I'm not sure I'd ever have gotten better if I hadn't, so… At least I understand myself better now."

By Hermione's side, Kakashi rubs a hand across his face, then leans back to look at the ceiling. "What if there's too many broken pieces?" The question is almost whispered, barely carrying over the sound of the car. Hermione can't contain a huff.

"_Have you met me?_" she asks. "Obviously I haven't fixed all of mine. Since I got to know you, I've had several minor breakdowns, which you should remember since you've been around for them." The smile that finds its way to her lips isn't exactly happy, but it's light none the less. "You figure out what pieces you have to get in shape to start working again, slap some paint on shat you can, and make sure to place the rest of the messed-up ones so they don't compromise the structure of the building too badly. Then you keep on working as well as you can on what you can get to, and keep going until the next thing comes crashing down. If you're lucky and placed your pieces right its only a part of you, otherwise it all repeats itself."

"That's not very reassuring," Kakashi says, but his tone is dry. It's a step up.

"Yeah, well, life's a bitch," Hermione tells him lightly. It's not what you're supposed to say to someone who you're worried might get suicidal, but Hermione was never a very rose-coloured sugar-coating kind of person. Life, she realized years ago, will have its fair share of breakdowns and agony, but it's the contrast that makes the beautiful moments really shine. Going numb enough to not notice the good things, that's the scary part.

"Wow," a smile can be heard in Kakashi's voice, "I feel great now. Thank you."

"Maa," Hermione answers, mimicking Kakashi's expression as well as his tone. "Aren't you supposed to be a dog person?"

A startled laugh comes from the passenger seat, and Hermione feels like she just won the grand prize. "For your information they are _ninken_, there's a difference." Kakashi's mock glare is clear enough that Hermione catches it without looking at him.

A few minutes of easy bantering will make no drastic changes, this is not a wand that can be waved to make the mess go away, but laughing in the middle of chaos is allowed. Necessary even. The offset from the darkness around it only serves to make the light feel brighter. Providing a short respite in which breathing is easy again, and a reminder of how it's supposed to be and why the fight is worth it. They let the subject carry them all the way to the parking lot by the viewpoint, Hermione arguing that Bitch should work just as well as Hound if you feel a need for codenames. For some reason Kakashi doesn't agree.

.oOo.

There's one good thing, Kakashi thinks, with no longer caring: Nothing matters. By now, he's so far past breaching rule 25 that it might as well not exist. He's not overly worried about it, however, because that would require using a substantial amount of emotional energy he doesn't have.

Two nights ago, Hermione reminded Kakashi that he'll be going home in three months and said she'd rather make that time count. In that moment he hadn't been able to take in her words, but he's thought about them since. As much as he thinks about anything. He will be going home, that's a fact, and he will have to function then. Will need to pick up where he left off, with a war-torn village in an uncertain post-alliance world where the shinobi nations must figure out where to go next.

But he's got three months, hasn't he? Twelve weeks that will have to be enough to get him back on his feet and in fighting shape. He has no idea how it's going to happen, only that it _must_. And that it, by necessity, will involve Hermione, and Jón. On his own, Kakashi has no idea where to even start. If he's to have a chance at making it, he might have to play by their rules. Which is terrifying, as much as he feels such an emotion right now. Because Kakashi has no idea what those rules are, only that they don't line up with the ones he's used to.

Over half his life ago, Kakashi learnt the hard way that he'd been too focused on the mission coming first. If he could, he'd go back and change that, but he can't. He'd taken the lesson from his father and Obito – too late, much too late – and had lived on by a new philosophy where he swore to never leave his friends behind. To never let them die. Which he'd failed at, spectacularly and utterly, and it makes him trash, it does, but at least he's trying. He might not ever be good enough, but he's been _trying_.

Only now, he's beginning to wonder if there might be more than one kind of abandonment.

.oOo.

The sun does set, but shallow enough that its glow leaves a thin band of horizon on fire. There's a haze to the air, no more than a drop of milk in a water glass, and pinks and oranges bleed through it onto every surface. It makes the stony landscape feel painted in warm watercolours; the work of a painter focusing on fantasy novel illustrations. Combined with the almost tangible ambient magic it makes the very air feel electric.

"Can you feel it?" Hermione asks, turning to Kakashi. They're sitting backwards on the bench of a picnic table, leaning against the table top. Kakashi glances at her.

"Feel what?" he says, repositioning his elbow behind him.

"The magic." Hermione closes her eyes and faces the sky, trying to figure out how to describe it. "It's in the background," she says, "not a smell or touch or anything, more like a feeling of weight. Or power." She breathes in, lets it settle in her bones and calm her mind. "Non-magicals can feel it too, as well as witches and wizards I think, they just don't have words for it since they've got no obviously magical places to compare against. It's strong here, it reminds me of Hogwarts."

When no answer comes Hermione glances over at Kakashi. He's sitting with his eyes closed, the visible parts of his face relaxed. After what feels like a full minute he hums. She takes it as a yes.

"Why did you choose to go here?" he asks, then clarifies when Hermione fails to answer the broad question. "I get that it attracts tourists, but you choose to live here. For a year. Why not go someplace where you could do magic?" His right eye opens, and he turns to her. Hermione looks away.

"I don't know." She lets the question sink in. A few of her friends back home had asked the same thing, but she can't remember what she answered. Probably as little as possible. "I guess I was just sick of everything that reminded me of my life," she thinks out loud, "and the magical part especially. That whole community can just be so insular and prejudiced and brainless. It won't matter that the right side won the war when they're just exoticizing everything non-magical to the point where people like my parents are seen as a different species." Hermione can feel anger rising inside her like a tide and wishes she had a kunai in her hands and a target to practice on. "Did you know," she continues, "that several people told me I'd be 'wasting my talent' when I wanted a non-magical education. Because to them the magical community is the only one that counts."

Midnight sun, Hermione reminds herself. That's why she's here. She should enjoy it, not be frustrated at the idiocy of the wizarding community. Forcing a deep breath down her lungs, she uncurls fists she can't recall forming. The light is beautiful, with the sun beginning to peak over the horizon again and light clouds drifting over the sky. People's thoughtless comments should not be allowed to destroy that.

Kakashi still hasn't spoken, and Hermione looks over at him. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes locked somewhere in the distance. "What?" Hermione asks, and bumps her shoulder lightly against his.

"Nothing." He turns to meet her eyes, the furrows gone but a contemplative tension remaining. "I was just wondering," he says, "what it's like for children from civilian families who become shinobi."

It's not at all the answer Hermione was expecting. She cocks her head. "Well," she muses, "you are at least not completely cut off from regular life, are you? You do live in the same village." From what Hermione's gathered, the overlap between civilian and shinobi is far more extensive than the one between muggle and magical.

"We do," Kakashi says, "and we aren't, but I just..." A hand comes up to rub the back of Kakashi's neck. "I never thought about it," he admits, "even when I had Sakura as a genin." A smile finds its way to Hermione's lips. For a short while it seemed like he wasn't really responding to her, that he'd changed the subject, and he _has_ in a way. But not because he didn't listen, but because he did. Not only to what she was saying, but to what it meant.

"You could just ask her?" Hermione shrugs. "And if you're going to be Hokage you might actually be able to do something if needed. Just don't introduce some stupid elective class in school that studies civilians like you would magical creatures."

"I'm sure no one with a mediocre amount of intelligence would do that." Kakashi's tone is dry. Hermione almost calls him out on the intelligence part, but reigns the reaction in.

"We had that," she tells him instead and watches his eyebrows rise. "It was called muggle studies, and it taught children from thirteen and up important things like the existence of electricity."

"They need to be told about electricity? At thirteen?"

"Yep." Hermione laughs at the way Kakashi's hand come up to cover his eyes as he cringes. "That's how closed off the magical society is," she continues. "And at thirteen those kids would have been to school for two years with people from non-magical families. Who, I might add, isn't given any kind of introduction to, or class about, things that are obvious to those with magical parents. So, we start out quite a bit behind."

The older she gets; the weirder Hermione finds her one-hour meeting about being an honest-to-God witch and the practicalities of going or Hogwarts. At eleven, she'd already been an avid reader and that had helped, but there was too little written with muggleborns in mind for it to make up for much. If she was a little lost at first, she can't imagine how her parents must have felt watching their only child get sucked up in a parallel world.

"How would you do it then?" Kakashi asks. "If you had the choice?"

"Introduction classes for muggleborns and their families the summer before they start school," she answers without hesitation. This is something she's spent time thinking about. "Mandatory classes about the regular society, that are better done than what we had. Family days when non magical families can visit the school and see where their children and siblings are living, and meet their teachers. A phone at school so non-magical parents can reach it faster." She pauses to shrug. "Do you want me to go on?"

"I think I get the picture," Kakashi answers, but it's flat. Before Hermione's eyes, he's fading away. A minute ago he was invested in the conversation, now his eyes are glazing over and his eyebrows draw together.

"Where did you disappear to?" Hermione asks when it's clear Kakashi doesn't intent to go on. His eyes snap back to her momentarily before his focus returns to the empty air.

"I'm thinking," Kakashi says slowly, just as Hermione is beginning to accept the fact that he won't respond, "that it's people like you who should be in charge. Who has clear ideas for how to make things better." Pausing to swallow, Kakashi crosses his arms over his chest. There's a faraway quality to his voice when he continues. "Instead they choose people like me; who has no clue but has a known name and are powerful on the battlefield, and…" he trails off, and Hermione can see a variety of unspoken endings.

They're sitting close enough that it's easy for Hermione to hook her arm around Kakashi's. Sliding up to his side she puts her head on his shoulder. The bone digs into her cheek, sharp even through layers of clothes, but it's the closest thing to a hug she can manage. This thing, Kakashi becoming Hokage, feels significant. With Jón saying Kakashi's having some kind of stress reaction, Hermione would be prepared to bet a significant amount of money on the upcoming duty being one of the more direct causes. "You want to do right by them," she tells him, "that's the important part." Some kind of movement transfers through Kakashi's shoulder, but Hermione isn't in a position to see what it was. "I think," she continues, "the risk with people like me thinking they have the solutions, is they forget to listen to others. And no one knows best on their own. So, you might be the better choice, in the end. Just talk to people. Let them help you."

"Who?" Kakashi's voice comes out grainy, and he clears his throat. "What people?" Looking down, Hermione can see his fingers gripping the cuffs of his jacket. She takes a careful breath.

"Your friends," she says, "from what I've gathered Naruto, Sakura, and Tsunade probably have ideas and should want to help. Gai. _Me._"

"You won't even be there." The words are a barb, but a fair one.

"Well," Hermione answers, "maybe not. But we can plan beforehand, work something out so you know what to do. Just like you did for me when I was terrified of being found." Lifting her head Hermione sees Kakashi's profile as he watches the rising sun. He's close enough that she can detect the flexing cheek muscles outlined behind the mask. "I'm good at planning," she tells him and squeezes his arm. "You don't have to figure everything out on your own. I might not be there for the execution, but I could still help."

"I wouldn't even know where we'd start." Kakashi speaks to the horizon, his tone level.

"I'll come up with a strategy then." Hermione reaches out with her free hand, telegraphing the motion. She lets a single finger rest lightly against the far side of Kakashi's chin, giving it a cautious pull. Following her direction he turns to her, but his eyes are closed and his face wiped blank. "You don't have to do it alone," she says. "Let us help you. Please."

Not a muscle moves in Kakashi's face, but tears spring into existence in the corners of his eyes and follow the line of his nose before disappearing in the fabric covering his face. He swallows. Hermione wants nothing more in that moment than to relieve the ache that is palpable enough to settle in her own throat. She's not sure what it is, but probably a mix of several emotions.

"Deal?" she asks him, the word thick and heavy on her tongue.

Kakashi nods.

* * *

AN: Sorry, but this was just where the scene ended. I tried to make it go on, but it refused. Let me know what you think!


	25. Chapter 25

AN: New chapter! I love you all, and I really appreciate you writing me with your own experiences and ideas. You rock! Now, let's get to it.

* * *

"Mum." Hermione knows her interjection won't matter, her mother's on a roll and won't be stopped by anything short of nuclear disaster or Hermione hanging up on her.

"I'm just saying, honey, that you take on too much. He isn't your responsibility."

Closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath doesn't help Hermione much. She leans back against the barn wall. "Yeah," she says, "you've already said that. _And_ Kristín did as well, so I've already heard it."

"Well, you've only known him for a few months. No one would think less of you if you didn't want to do this." Hermione bites down on her tongue. "I'm just worried," her mother continues, "you've been through so much already. You don't need another thing dragging you down."

"He's not dragging me down," Hermione answers. "He's my friend, and friends are there for each other. That's what you do when you care about someone." Loosening her grip on the phone, Hermione begins scraping a hole in the gravel with her booted toes. It's hard work, the ground toughened by years of use, but she needs to do something or she's going to scream into the phone.

"You've got so much going for you." Hermione kicks at a small stone until it comes loose. "Why don't you find yourself a healthy boyfriend instead? Someone you can have fun with?" The hole gets forgotten.

"Seriously?" Hermione says, louder than necessary yet not loud enough. She paces the length of the barn. "Are you listening to me at all? For one; he's not my boyfriend." She takes a breath. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. And if I were, I would want someone who understands me and who I could talk to, not just some happy-go-lucky guy that fits your plan of a perfect Instagram life." It's not that fun isn't on Hermione's list of things she wants in a future life partner, of course she wants someone she can laugh with, but it's not at the top and it's definitely not enough on its own.

"You need to relax a little honey, stop thinking so much." Hermione takes a slow breath. They've had this discussion far too many times by now. She knows she's overly controlled, but she hasn't been able to change that. "Maybe you _should_ sleep with him," her mum continues. "It might do both of you some good."

"Mum!"

Hermione's last exclamation did nothing to stop her mother, and neither does this one. "What?" the woman says, "it's relaxing, and you're just so restrained all the time. Take a chance and see what happens." Hermione stops to press her forehead against the cold whitewashed wall.

"Jesus. So first I should cut it off, now I should sleep with him?" She's beginning to wish she's called someone else. This is doing nothing to make her feel better. The opposite in fact. "Can we just _not_ talk about this?"

"Well, you called me for advice."

"I called you," Hermione clarifies, "because I needed someone to talk to."

"That does imply I should give my opinion. This is my opinion."

Hermione wonders when her mother changed, if that's what happened. Growing up her mother had always been a great support and the first one Hermione would reach out to when things got rough. Now, she just steamrolls ahead in a way that makes Hermione feel worse as often as it makes her feel better. Her father had implied some time ago that his wife, for all her good sides, had always been opinionated and bad at listening, and that Hermione was now merely finding her own ways.

"Yeah, okay, whatever." Hermione is done with this conversation. It's not like it's getting anywhere. Next time, she'll call someone else. Although her dad is usually uncomfortable around subjects like this, and she's reluctant to talk about Kakashi's breakdown with her friends. Not because they'd judge, or think less of him in any way, but because Hermione knows Kakashi'd balk at the idea of people knowing. There's no telling Harry without Ginny knowing, or the other way around. After that, and given a little time, most of their circle of close-knit friends would know the general situation. Including Ron. Her mother had seemed like the isolated, trustworthy choice, but while Hermione knows she'd never betray her trust, this hasn't exactly been productive.

Hanging up the phone, Hermione wishes she could talk to Kakashi about the call but well… Given the topic she'll just have to process it on her own. Maybe she can talk to her dad instead tomorrow. He'll offer no advice, but at least he'll listen.

.oOo.

Hermione never demands an answer so much as tells Kakashi it's high time to book tickets. He should say no. Spending over a week with Hermione's family and friends sounds like a terrible idea. Close to torture, after Ginny heard he might be coming and promptly invited him to the wedding. Only the option is to stay here and wave Hermione off. To go back to Heimstaðir and a bedroom he hasn't slept in for months. Alone. Wondering what Hermione's doing in that moment.

He should say no. It's simple really. Two letters, one syllable: No. But he can't make himself. Instead, he sits down by the kitchen table with Hermione and tries to figure out the optimal travel plans.

.oOo.

Þorir drops by on Friday afternoon, probably because Hermione ratted Kakashi out to his hosts about Jón and his doctor teaming up and telling him to stay off work for three more weeks. It's a ridiculous thing. Kakashi might not be able to do much but move around the house, but surely, he can't need three more weeks. He needs to shape up and get back to work, not be told that it's okay to be useless. Unfortunately, Hermione told Sunna and Þorir, but it's not like either of them can stop him from going out on Monday. They will all be at their own workplaces after all.

The Icelander is a broad man, with a red beard that accentuates his chin movements as he speaks. Not that he does at the moment, speak that is, as he watches Kakashi over the rim of his mug. It feels strange to see him in Hermione's kitchen.

"How are you doing," Þorir asks in the end.

Kakashi shrugs, looks out the widow towards the cowshed where Hermione is. This might have been less awkward with her around. "Fine," he says.

"After Hermione called last night, me and Sunna had a talk." Þorir clears his throat, scratches his beard. "We feel like you should know the arrangement we made with your boss." A chill spreads from Kakashi's abdomen out to his limbs. He contains a shiver and turns to tell Þorir it's alright, he'll be back at work on Monday no matter what. Before he can speak, the other man continues. "Your boss," he says, "asked us, in the event that you'd be unable to work, if she could pay us for room and board, and to find someone local to take over your job."

Opening his mouth to answer, Kakashi can't find a single word. Þorir folds his lips into a smile and sips his tea. "Sunede?" Þorir starts, and Kakashi corrects him, his voice hoarse. "Tsunade?" Kakashi nods, "told us from the start that she had a soldier who had had a rough time and who needed some time off, and that she didn't know what would happen once you got it." Kakashi closes his eyes and swallows back the tight burning sensation rising in his chest. "She wanted to know that, for the time of our arrangement, you'd have a safe place here regardless. Which you have. I know you're not technically living with us at the moment, and that's alright, but there's a room for you if you want it. No strings attached."

There's no way to begin processing what Þorir is saying. Kakashi feels like he can't breathe, and everything's on fire, and Þorir is _right there_, probably watching him. Forcing down a lungful of air Kakashi reaches for his voice. He wants to say he'd prefer some time alone to think, if Þorir is done; but it's too many words. Impossible. "Go," he says instead, tacking on a, "please," while he can.

There's the sound of a chair against the floor, tea being poured out, and then a presence stopping at Kakashi's side. He knows without looking about the hand that lands on his shoulder before it touches him. Is still aware enough of his surroundings for that. Reigns in any reaction. Þorir's touch is nothing like Hermione's. It's tense, itching, weird. "Let us know if you need anything." The hand goes away. Finally.

The second the door closes Kakashi can no longer contain the tears. He is _so_ tired of crying.

Kakashi must be losing time, because Hermione steps through the front door much sooner than she should, calling out to him. Going to meet her isn't a conscious choice so much as a knee-jerk reaction. She hasn't gotten further than stepping out of her rubber boots and shrugging out of her jacket, but she turns to Kakashi as he walks into the hallway. Drops her jacket on the floor. Wraps her arms around him as he steps in close. "I heard," she says, low and cool in his ear, "Þorir came out to get me, he told me."

The smell of cows is sharp in the shirt beneath Kakashi's face, and it's not exactly pleasant but it's preferable to the alternative. He doesn't want Hermione to leave, not right now. There's the possibility his legs wouldn't carry him on their own. "You were right," he tells her, the words chopped up and wet from crying.

"Yeah," Hermione agrees, and Kakashi can hear the smile in her voice. "I'm good that way."

"I could still be right as well," Kakashi argues. Just because Tsunade had known (and isn't that a paralyzing thing to think about later) it doesn't mean she didn't also want him gone to protect the village from him becoming Hokage.

Lucky for Kakashi, Hermione understands what he's getting at. She hums. "True," she begins, "but if she wanted to keep you from getting the hat I doubt she's have gone out of her way to give you the conditions to get better. Wouldn't it have been easier to just watch you crash and burn at home? No offence, but pushing you over the edge wouldn't have been hard for someone who knew what they were doing."

Kakashi has no idea what to say to that, so he keeps quiet. There's a lot of things left to consider. Like; if Tsunade saw, who else did? And what is she thinking about it all? Not to mention the fact that she can still be wrong. Naming Kakashi Hokage can still be a disastrous decision. People have been wrong before. Yet, despite all of that, Hermione does have a point. Tsunade could have torn him apart at home without breaking a sweat.

The sobbing is tapering out as the crying changes. Kakashi didn't know there were so many different types of crying besides the sad, the happy, and the hurt. There's hurt in here, still, as is there sadness, but there's also something else. A cool, tranquil feeling that flows like balm over the sore parts. He hesitates to try and name it.

The hug is allowed to last until the last tears are drying out and Kakashi feels like he can stand on his own. Hermione guides him to the couch then, before going to shower. She hasn't been gone more than a few minutes before an emptiness settles in Kakashi's chest, echoing the rhythm of his heart. He's beat. An unbelievable, disarming, all-consuming exhaustion that leaves him feeling raw and vulnerable. His tear ducts start malfunctioning, releasing fluid down his cheeks that is completely unrelated to everything else. Leaning his head back against the backrest Kakashi leaves them be, they're far less embarrassing than the snotty, messy sobbing he's already done in Hermione's presence enough times over the last week.

A wrinkle appears between Hermione's eyebrows as Kakashi turns to watch her cross the living room. Her wet hair is leaving dark patches of water on her light grey sweater. She sits down to lean against him without a word. "I can't seem to stop crying," Kakashi tells her.

"Is there a reason you need to?" Hermione's question makes Kakashi shrug. He has no idea. Shinobi doesn't show tears, but he's shown her so many by now it hardly matters any more. "Maybe you've just got a lot of saved up tears that need to get out," Hermione suggests when Kakashi doesn't speak.

He closes his eyes and gives it some thought. Remembers after Rin. The wildly raging fire inside him. The nausea. The urge to scream. He'd made Gai challenge him to a fight then, had suggested that they make it taijutsu only, because he never wanted to win. When he'd been too bruised and tired to get back to his feet Gai had dragged him home. There had been a look on his face when he dropped him off, like Gai wanted to say something, but Kakashi had closed his door before he had the chance.

It had pretty much repeated itself after Minato, and a few other nameless days when Kakashi had felt the echoes of those feelings. Crying, on the other hand, is something he has little recollection of.

"I could fall asleep now," Kakashi tells Hermione.

"So go to bed, I don't have to hang out in the living room." Hermione's suggestion is reasonable, but Kakashi doesn't want to leave. Sitting here, with her at his side, the unusual emptiness in his chest is lessening. He doesn't particularly want it back.

"It's too early," he says. "You feel like watching a movie?"

Hermione picks something that's stupid. That's about all that Kakashi gets. They eat sandwiches in front of it and afterwards he keeps nodding off, then twitching awake with an effort to keep up with the plot. "Seriously," Hermione tells him maybe the fifth time, "you should go to bed."

"We've got half the movie left," Kakashi says. Going to bed would mean the chill from the Hermione-free side of his body would get the chance to spread. He doesn't want that.

The movie pauses. "What's the real reason?" Hermione asks. She's leaned away from him to reach the computer and is now resolutely meeting his eyes. Kakashi steels himself to not look away.

"I told you," he says, "it's not even eight o'clock, we've got half a movie left." Hermione looks unimpressed.

"I'm thinking we can finish it another time." Reaching for the computer, Hermione makes a move to stand. Kakashi grabs her arm. This evening has been overwhelming, not to mention the whole week's been a disaster. Now he's supposed to come to terms with Tsunade sending him here for this exact reason, Sunna and Þorir knowing, _and_ figure out how to feel about it all.

"Don't go." It's the complete opposite of what he said to Þorir, and yet exactly the same. The same pleading breaking voice that Kakashi despises hearing from his own lips. But there's a cavern inside Kakashi that feels less desolate when Hermione is here, and he can't bear to lose that comfort. Not yet. Another hour of sitting here watching a movie and he might be able to have it padded enough that he won't feel it so acutely once he goes to bed.

"Why?" Hermione asks, her face soft. She twists her arm around in Kakashi's grip and take a twin hold of his underarm, aligning their wrists.

She knows, he can see it in her eyes, and yet she asks. Kakashi can't figure out the reason, it seems like torture and nothing else. Closing his eyes, he takes a steadying breath. Tries to decide whether to continue or not. "I don't want to be alone," he confesses in the end. Because she already knows. Because she's already seen him weak. Because she needs to know he trusts her. The words still feel like broken glass in his throat. Hermione's free hand comes up to rest at his neck.

"What if you wouldn't have to choose?" Hermione asks, and Kakashi doesn't dare to try and interpret those words. "I've got a four-foot bed, we can both fit." Pink tinges Hermione's ears and she presses her lips together.

"I'd be imposing." Kakashi can't meet her eyes as he says it. "Don't worry, I'll be fine." She's done too much already, he can't allow her to sacrifice this as well.

"Are you kidding me?" Hermione squeezes Kakashi's arm. "I couldn't imagine anything better. Damn it Kakashi, I appreciate our mornings enough that I sort of feel bad about it because I should want you to be having a good day and be up and about when I come in." A quick glance shows a smile on her face, reaching her eyes. "Just sleeping, promise, and if either of us change our minds there's an empty bed in the living room. Could we _not_ make it complicated?"

Kakashi blinks. Remembers mornings curled up together in bed and having already learnt to get up and go to the toilet while Hermione is working. To not have to get up a moment sooner than necessary when she's back. "Okay," he gives in, and it comes out hardly stronger than a whisper. When he looks over at Hermione the smile has grown, as has the pink color are now reaching out across her cheeks.

.oOo.

Hermione really, really doesn't want to go to work. Her alarm wakes her, but she snoozes it without thinking. She's pressed against Kakashi's side, their legs tangled up and his arm around her shoulders. Under her palm she can feel the beating of his heart through the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt. The second alarm comes too fast, and when she starts extricating herself Kakashi mumbles something wordless and drags her in. She closes her eyes for a moment, and returns the hug.

"I know," she says, "trust me I know, but duty calls." He lets her go, turns over and burrows down further under the blankets.

There's a warm and soft ache in Hermione's chest as she gets ready and goes to work, but she carefully wipes away her smile before meeting Kristín. The woman doesn't need to see it.

Hopefully, Kakashi won't be up by the time she gets back inside.

* * *

AN: Such fluff! It just happened, I swear. I'm completely unapologetic, but also disillusioned enough to know it won't fix everything. Hugs for everyone!


	26. Chapter 26

AN: Long time no publish. This chapter has just been SO hard. I actually ended up writing the next one before this one (meaning the good news is that the next one will hopefully be published tomorrow, or at the latest this weekend). As for this chapter, I needed time to pass. I don't like how it turned out, and to add insult to injury I can't make myself proofread it properly since I don't want to acknowledge it. Either way, it has to get published for the storyline to keep moving forward so we will have to live with it.

Love you all!

* * *

Afterwards, nothing at all changes. And everything. Sharing Hermione's bed isn't a one-time-thing, it becomes habit as quickly as their mornings did. They're still friends. Nothing more. Or, maybe _more_, but not _different_. Friends with benefits, or something.

Kakashi knows it's not normal. That there must be something off with him. He's meant to either want more or less, but he was never very good at wanting more and doesn't have the strength to make himself want less. It's like the last shred of energy left Kakashi after the conversation with Þorir. Not that he had very much to lose.

For a long time, Kakashi sleeps almost twelve hours every day. He's told that what's happening to him is long-term stress finally taking its toll, but he can't really see it. There is absolutely nothing on his schedule, and hardly has been since he got here, how can he possibly suffer from stress? Jón smiles without joy when Kakashi voices the question and gives him a long-winding explanation about different kinds of stress _not_ related to workload and amounting levels of cortisol. Hermione simply tells him that pointlessly fighting to keep his crumbling self together was at fault, and Kakashi prefers her directness to Jón's wish for him to find his own answers.

They gave his job away to someone's niece, but that isn't an excuse to idle. It takes two weeks before Hermione questions that he does all the housework. Kakashi has no idea what she's on about, because she's working, and he's got time off. Sharing equally the way she advocates is fine and all, but it hardly seems fair when he's at home all day and she's out being useful. She says something about sick leave being an occupation as much as his job was, only with resting, but that's just weird.

By the looks of it, Hermione sells him out to Jón, because for the next week and a half Kakashi is forced to suffer through a lot of talking about if he finds his value to be intrinsic or based on how he contributes. They force him to stop doing work while Hermione is out, which is unreasonable and misguided, but he's allowed an exception for cooking dinner. (And by god, has he missed _real_ food. As real as he can make it, anyway, with what ingredients he can get.)

The thing is, Kakashi knows it's not about how he sees his own value. He knows that, because with the exception of Hermione, people has always heard _of_ him before they've spoken _to_ him. He knows it because he's never met a single person who hasn't started out wanting something from him. It's always been about his skills, or his reputation, or his body, or whatever other uses they can see for him. Sometimes, the relationship goes on and they build mutual loyalty, trust and respect. Most of the time? The other party gets, or doesn't get, what they want from him and moves on.

In a world like that, staying useful matters. The value of a shinobi is easily measured, after all, no matter how they see themselves.

With all jobs banned Kakashi gets a lot of time to think about things like the role of Hokage, and the plan Hermione is helping him put together. He's not sure anything will ever come from it, but he's got nothing better to do, and preparing can't hurt. Can it? Hermione has a thousand questions, and ever more thoughts to share, and Kakashi is not sure what to do about any of it. It's not that her ideas are bad, they're just unorthodox and awkward and will need someone far stronger than him to ever get realized. Like mental health programs; he can see the point, obviously, and he sits with Hermione and plans for what should be done, but he already knows it's doomed to fail. Things like that won't go down easily with the shinobi. Won't go down _at all_, if he knows anything about it. It won't matter how many warning signs he can see in how many friends, nor how many more Hermione points out. Shinobi don't show tears and they don't do emotion. Easy as that.

.oOo.

Things have changed. It's not as simple as Hermione being able to point out a single moment, hour, day, or week that flipped everything on its head, but _things have changed_. After all, it wasn't that long ago that Kakashi would literally run away from anything resembling emotional territory. A few giant leaps can be easily identified, but they're not as life altering as they seemed when they happened. They were always sliding in this direction, and even if there's been turns and bumps on the road it's smoother than expected when viewed in hindsight.

Kakashi seeks her out know, shares things, and Hermione isn't naïve enough to believe it's always and everything, but it never is. She doesn't always go to him when things are bad, and she sure as hell hasn't told him about every dark, painful thing lurking in her mind. Because some topics can't be spoken about, and sometimes you need to be alone with your own thoughts. There's nothing wrong with that.

"Sleeping in the same bed" is a roundabout way of saying "sleeping together" but it doesn't share the same connotations, so Hermione sticks to it none the less.

Sharing a bed has brought its own slow change in their dynamic, that Hermione notices all at once when it's already been in play for weeks; they've gone sort of domestic. It's noticeable only in the small things, each one on its own insignificant enough to remain unnoticed but seen together they paint a picture. Like the way they're generally seated next to each other on the couch. Or the way Kakashi casually touches her to move her out of the way when he's reaching for something in the kitchen. The fact that Hermione doesn't even hesitate to massage Kakashi's shoulders when she feels how tense they are. And that he returns the favour.

There's nothing romantic about any of it, only a deep familiarity and a lack of personal space when it comes to one another. For all Hermione knows, it'll end in disaster. She can see so many scenarios where it turns bad, but with days and weeks flowing by treacherously under her, there's a decreasing risk they'll have time to stumble into most of them.

Whether that's a good or a bad thing is another question altogether. Because this is ending. Soon.

.oOo.

Kakashi gets in the car over a month later, and there's something hard-set and controlled about him. Nothing obvious; a miniscule change in his movements and around his eyes, a too controlled exhale. "Bad session?" Hermione asks, turning to him. She doesn't start the car, they're no in a hurry.

A more open sigh leaves Kakashi and he leans his head back. "It's stupid," he says, "this whole thing is stupid. I'm done with it."

"I might need…"

"Let's go home," Kakashi cuts her off, sounding resigned enough that Hermione yields and starts the car without finishing her question.

Nothing is said for the five minutes it takes to leave the town behind and start down the open road. "It's just…" Kakashi says as Hermione makes a turn to cross the bridge and leave the main road behind. "It doesn't make sense, okay? For months all either of you tell me is that I need to change, and now I'm meant to simply accept everything?" In the corner of her eye, Hermione can see Kakashi shake his head. His tone is shifting from disheartened to vexed. Another sharp turn allows them to continue following the river on the other side, now with gravel crunching under the tires. "So what," Kakashi continues, "everything else was for nothing? I made it through all that only for Jón to tell me now I should accept how it is? We could have started there, and I wouldn't have had to do any of this."

"Are you doing ACT?" Hermione asks to buy her time to come up with a decent answer.

"Am I doing what?" For the first time since the parking lot, Kakashi turns towards her.

"ACT. It – doesn't matter, actually." Hermione shakes her head. Naming things isn't always helpful. "What did Jón say?"

"I just told you." If she wasn't driving, Hermione would close her eyes. Kakashi sure isn't in his most accommodating mood.

"You were there for an hour," she tells him, mindful to keep her voice even, "I'm sure something more was said?"

A glance catches the end of a shrug. "This was the last few minutes," Kakashi says. "Apparently, we're meant to start on it next time." He's passed right through the agitation based on his tone. If Hermione could only look at him properly, she might get any clue to what's in his voice now. Having this type of conversation while in the car with her driving is beginning to feel old and done with.

Allowing herself a few seconds, Hermione maneuvers the car past an area filled with potholes. By now, she knows both the road and the car well enough that she can do it without thinking, but she needs a moment to figure out what to say.

"You know," she begins, "I did this group-therapy stress-class thing once, and in the first session the therapist started talking about acceptance." A small smile finds its way to Hermione's lips. It isn't exactly a happy one, remembering things like they were are always a bittersweet reminder of how far she's come since then. "I got, I don't know, upset," she continues. "Because it sounded to me like he was saying I should accept the things that had made me sick, and accept that Icouldn't handle things the way I should. And I had worked so hard trying _not_ to feel like everything was my fault. That the problem _wasn't_ me. Then this therapist came along – not knowing my history mind you – and told me I should learn to accept things. Let's just say it wasn't what I needed to hear."

"You did something rash, didn't you?" Kakashi's tone has taken on it's dry, joking tone, and Hermione can bet he's raising an eyebrow. As there's a curve in the road she can't check to see if she's right.

"What?" she says, and this time her smile is real. "Of course I didn't, I'm a perfectly stable, composed, and generally well behaved person; I don't do rash. I _might_ have stood up and left though." After so many years there's a certain amount of humour to it. "He had to come and find me," she finishes.

A small sound escapes Kakashi, barely audible over the engine and tyres, and it's not a chuckle but close enough to it that Hermione feels a grain of warmth flare in her chest. His mood is improving.

"Well," she goes on when it's clear he has no intention to speak, "we talked about it more, both then and later, and I sort of realized he hadn't meant it like that. I came to the conclusion that the point was to accept some of the things I can't change. Like, the way I feel about things, or who I am, because there's little point fighting that. For example, when you wake up with anxiety in the morning? You can either fight it; like trying to make it go away or figure out why you have it – as if there needs to be a reason. Or you could accept it and say to yourself that, 'okay, I have anxiety today,' and move on."

Kakashi sighs and leans his head back. A glance shows his eyes to be closed. "You're making it sound easier than it is," he says. A casual observation, nothing more, but he does put his finger on it, doesn't he? Even years later Hermione hasn't figured out what to do when the person you're supposed to accept as being you isn't a very likeable one. She come to terms with tha fact that she can't change, but still has no idea how to reconcile with the inevitable loneliness that will follow.

"Probably," she agrees. Mentioning the other things tumbling around in her brain is unthinkable. Kakashi is observant, and intelligent, so he might be guessing, but this conversation is not going there. It's just not. "However, you're not starting from scratch on this. You've done one of the hardest parts already." In a manner of speaking at least. He's definitely done the scariest part. "Did Jón tell you the beachball thing?" she asks, trying to figure out how to continue.

No verbal answer is given. Kakashi lets his head fall to the side instead, eyes opening to watch her. He shrugs.

"Okay," Hermione continues, "like this: Imagine all of those things you don't want to acknowledge being a beachball. So, you're out swimming, and it's a beautiful day, but all you can focus on is pushing down that beachball under the surface of the water, so you don't have to deal with it. Which means all you do is focus on that ball."

"Like focusing on keeping the tower together?"

Hermione nods. "Exactly, and it's scary to stop, because when you push an inflated ball under water it will bounce up with quite some force if you let it go, probably hitting you in the face. But you already did that part, didn't you? You already lost control of your ball or tower or whatever. It's already at the surface. Now it's more a question of learning not to start pushing it down again and enjoy your time swimming in the sunshine."

"Piece of cake," Kakashi says, and his tone could turn patches of farmland into a desert.

"Oh, definitely not," Hermione tells him, "but if you don't, you'll just go right back to where you started."

Hermione makes the final turn to reach their valley, then glances at Kakashi. "Amazing," he says. The quick look shows that something has softened about him, but whether that's because things feel better or because he's given up entirely is up for debate. They'll figure it out either way.

"You'll be fine." Hermione makes sure to put confidence in her tone. If he could do everything up to this point, he'll make it through this as well.


	27. Chapter 27

AN: Obviously, I didn't find the time to post this yesterday, but here it is. I didn't manage to get any time markers into this chapter, but I imagine this to be about a month before they're due to leave? I'm trying to speed up time a little bit to allow the storyline to get somewhere and spend my energy on the more defining and important moments. If there's one like that that you've been wishing for that I miss, let me know!

I'm so happy for all the great feedback you've given me, and I promise that answering your reviews are high up on my list of priorities (although after writing, which is why it hasn't been done ;) ). Lots of love!

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The skin on Kakashi's back is pale to the point where it's almost translucent, but Hermione knows that from their times at the pool. The scars, she hasn't seen before. Most of them are faded, hardy visible if you're particular about not being mistaken for checking someone out. Which Hermione is. It's impossible not to wonder where they came from, every single mark bound to have a history, but she doesn't ask. Rolls her knuckles over the taunt muscle between his shoulder blade and spine instead.

Kakashi groans. Turning her hand over to search the area with her fingers, Hermione finds knot after knot. They follow the edges of his shoulder blades all the way up to his neck. Given the extent of them she can see why he'd get a headache, not to mention anxiety. Picking a spot close to what she calls the anxiety-knot, she digs her thumb into one of his trigger points. Kakashi hums, the sound rumbling through his chest. The muscle trembles under the pressure then finally gives in, shifting almost an inch to the left and earning her a hissed intake of breath. She moves on to the next knot.

It's not the first time either of them gives the other a massage, and they've been sharing a bed many times by now. This shouldn't be any different. Yet, as Hermione sits straddling him, feels his warm skin under her fingers, it's is. He moans, and she's aware of every point of contact between them, how it shifts as she leans into the new trigger point.

What sounds would he make if she bent over instead, trailing kisses along his spine and across his ribs? If she allowed her fingers to carefully drift over his back and down his sides, mapping his contours, committing them to memory? How would his skin feel, sliding against hers? She adjusts the angle of her fingers. Feels the way their contact changes with the motion.

And anxiety slams into her like a freight train. Merciless. Inescapable. Suffocating. Crushing.

She shouldn't have let it go this far. Should know better by now. Swallowing, she focuses on the muscle knot under her fingers. Tries to ignore the other places where their bodies touch. Forces air in and out of her lungs in a steady rhythm.

Something gives her away, but she has no idea what. Kakashi turns his head to the side. "What happened?" he asks. "What's wrong?" From his angle he can't see her, but it clearly doesn't matter. Hermione wonders when he started reading her this effortlessly.

"Nothing," she says, but her voice breaks around the word. Tears are forming and she looks up to keep them from falling, begs that they'll run back down the tear ducts.

She knows she's meant to be freaking out about feeling that way about a friend. Be terrified of destroying their relationship. But she isn't. It's not like she's likely to end up here many times, and this is _exactly_ where she will end up. This is the _only_ way things like this end for her. So, unless she tells Kakashi what triggered the whole thing, they will be fine; he doesn't have to know what she felt a minute ago.

Fear isn't what's tearing her apart, it's despair. Because how broken doesn't someone have to be to feel this much pain from something that's meant to be good?

"You're not very good at lying." Kakashi says it casually, making sure to keep it a remark only.

"Yes I am," Hermione says. At least she thinks she is, people usually buy whatever mindset she's selling. "I'm just not really trying." It's not like she needs to put any effort into convincing him she's fine. He can know she feels horrible, as long as he doesn't know why.

"So why lie in the first place?" Pushing himself up with one elbow Kakashi twists his back enough to raise an eyebrow at Hermione. No amount of agility can make the position comfortable, and Hermione uses that as an excuse to get off him and lean against the wall instead. She hugs her knees to her chest and looks out at the room in front of her.

"There's things even I can't make myself talk about, you know," she says when the silence begins to eat away at her. "Places that are too bruised to prod. I guess I my mind stumbled upon one of those." Her attempt to sound casual falls a little short of the mark, but she thinks she does okay.

Kakashi turns over to sit cross-legged in the middle of the bed, at a right angle to Hermione. His shin brushes against her ankle, and even with two layers of clothes between them the contact is both an anchor and a painful reminder of how fucked up she is. "Can I do something?" he asks.

"No." Hermione shuts her eyes. Because there's no way to explain that you can't come close to sexual intimacy; that even the thought of accidently having one thing lead to another makes you drown in darkness. Because how do you tell someone you're so indescribably broken you won't ever be able to have a romantic relationship again? That no one will ever love you in a way you can live with, and that you could never love them the way you should? That friendship means so much because otherwise you'll die completely alone, but that you also know it will end with you being the constant third wheel while everyone else pairs off. That you _want_ partnership, but it's incompatible with who you've become – because it wasn't always like this – and you have absolutely no clue how to ever get back to being functional.

"Are you lying now too?" Hermione looks up in time to see Kakashi reach out with the question. Luckily. Because knowing the contact is coming, she can restrain her reaction to be an invisible tension flowing through her body.

Or mostly invisible, apparently, since Kakashi's hand lingers on her arm for only a moment before retracting. Unwilling to further the distance she just created by turning her head away, but unable to meet his eyes, Hermione finds herself watching Kakashi's chest. Despite her habit of studiously looking at nothing but the face of shirtless people, Hermione has noticed the scaring over Kakashi's torso before. It's hard not to. However, she hasn't really _seen_ it. Not the way she does now. There's the mess of knotted tissue on this side that corresponds with a similar mark on his back, but the implications that brings are not new. It's not what has her eyebrows draw together. That makes her swallow even if her throat is dry.

Hermione has noticed the two crossing lines before, but now is the first time she sees them; the straightness of the cuts, the eerie symmetry, the complete lack of disturbances. These were made by someone being up close and personal, and Kakashi hadn't tried to stop them.

"What happened here?" The question slips out, but she has the presence of mind to stop her hand short of touching Kakashi's skin.

Kakashi's fingers trail the mark in question, then come to rest at the presumed stab wound. An upwards glance shows a far away, closed-off look has settled over his face. "I guess," he says eventually, "it'd fall into that category of sore areas you mentioned."

"Oh." Hermione should have guessed – did guess, if she's honest – but it was a desperate attempt for a distraction and something to focus on that wasn't herself. "I'm sorry," she tells him, "we can talk about something else."

Something turns out to be nothing. Hermione has no idea what to say, her mind still looping back into anxiety and despair whenever it gets the chance, and Kakashi is equally silent. It's getting uncomfortable, a standstill Hermione has no idea how to break, when Kakashi speaks.

"When Obito turned out to be alive," Kakashi starts, voice low and flat, then fails to finish the sentence. Hermione watches his now closed eyes and the way the tendons in his arms pop out when he fists his hands. He has told her about the war, in bits and pieces and then all at once; but it's been events retold, nothing more. This, however, isn't the cold hard facts she's heard so far. This is personal. "I was…" he hesitates, "it was… not good." Dark eyes snap open and catches Hermione's. She realizes she's clenching her teeth, his sudden intensity strong enough to be contagious. "I'm trash," Kakashi says. Like it's an undisputable truth. Like he doesn't expect her to argue. Hermione opens her mouth to do exactly that, but is cut off.

"Don't you dare try to tell me otherwise when you know nothing about it." Kakashi's tone is hard now. Final. "I promised Obito I'd keep Rin safe, and I failed, and…" he takes a breath, softens, "if anyone has the right to judge me, it's him."

Hermione worries her lip. She wants to prove him wrong, tell him that whatever happened wasn't his fault, but she _doesn't_ know anything about it. She's never even heard the name Rin before. What she _has_ heard is the rule he lives by, and she remembers a conversation at the pool long ago about not saving friends. The whole picture might still be hidden, but the pieces tell Hermione enough. They also put a new twist to the pain that was already lodging in her stomach and chest. To make it worse, Kakashi keeps talking. "If Naruto hadn't stepped in," he says, "Obito would have probably killed me. I'd have probably _let_ him."

To keep meeting Kakashi's eyes is almost impossible, but Hermione manages. She has no idea what to say. Of course she's guessed, but not until now has Kakashi confirmed that kind of darkness in his history. And he brought it up in a way that means she shouldn't ask for details. Nor is she allowed to argue on his behalf. It feels like her chest is caving in. "I'm happy Naruto was there," she says in the end. If he hadn't, these last months would have been very different. Which is not something she wants to think about.

"Me too," Kakashi agrees and the remaining edges fade, leaving him deflated. "For several reasons. I don't think anyone else could have brought Obito back." He shrugs as he says it, then turns away. Hermione wants to ask if he's happy for his own sake as well, but doesn't quite dare to.

Normally, she'd go ahead and hug Kakashi at this point. Everything about him screams for it. But she can't. He's still undressed, and while her focus has been on other things, she can't exactly forget that. Not enough to act like everything's fine, not when the line between different kinds of intimacy can get horribly blurry when people are both emotional and halfway to naked at the same time. "You look like you want a hug," she tells him instead, because the fact can't remain ignored.

"I do," Kakashi glances at her, "but you…" he makes a small gesture, encompassing her reaction at his touch earlier. In that instance, Hermione hates how she has to make everything so complicated. It shouldn't have to be.

Reaching up to rub her fingertips up and down her forehead, Hermione effectively hides her face behind her hands. "Listen," she says, "I…" Swallowing fails to make her throat more cooperative. She presses on anyway. "I freak out sometimes, okay? If a situation gets…" her voice fades out and she searches for words to explain without giving to much away; words that won't make Kakashi want to run from her. There are none to be found, they are all simply more or less catastrophic. "…if it gets," she forces herself to continue, "I don't know, too intimate?" She hears how it sounds and tries to rectify. "Which is just bad history, FYI, but it's not like anyone hurt me, things just went to absolute shit and I can't…" Hermione stops herself before she can make more of a mess out of it. The slow inhale she forces her diaphragm to take is shaking. Studying her fingernail Hermione tries not to think about what might be on Kakashi's face.

"Put on a shirt and I'll be fine," Hermione says once she finds her voice again. If he's fully clothed, she can _make_ herself be fine. For his sake.

"That's easy," Kakashi cocks his head and raises an eyebrow when Hermione glances up at him. "Why didn't you say so from the start?" Leaning to his side he snatches his shirt up and pulls it over his head. Without disturbing the mask, which must be harder than he makes it look.

Hermione has no idea how to answer his question. She can't exactly tell him she doesn't want to draw attention to the what's causing her reaction. Nor can she tell him she prefers to not acknowledge it, because it feels to much like giving in. "Because I'm an idiot," she settles on. '_Damaged'_ would be closer to the truth.

"True," Kakashi agrees, "although there are other words that describe you better. Silly, for example. Ridiculous, absurd."

"Okay, okay, I got it." Hermione slaps him on the arm. "Way to go, you're really making me feel better here." But he is, a smile is finding its way to her face.

"Yes, I am," Kakashi swats her hand aside before she can hit him again and pulls her out of balance. For a second Hermione believes he'll stay in place and turn it into a hug, but he rolls to his feet and lets her hit the mattress instead. Bastard. "And you know what works even better?" Kakashi says. "Shuriken."

"The throwing stars?" Hermione can feel her eyebrows go up. She had been wanting to try them but, "do you want me to lose fingers?"

"Don't you trust me?" Kakashi says, putting on a hurt face. "Obviously, you won't be losing fingers." He exaggerates the s. "You'll be perfectly fine. Come on."

Hermione grumbles, but does as she's told. She craves distraction as much as he seems to do, and maybe shuriken can be the perfect thing. After all, she has no doubt her fingers will be safe. Every single one of them.

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AN: Please let me know what you think!

And PS: Yes, when I get knots in certain places, they give me anxiety. If I get the knots out, the anxiety goes as well. It's a thing, at least for me.


	28. Chapter 28

AN: So, I guess I blame life in general. I don't know what happened, updating just took time. I did finally get a job, starting on Monday, which spurred me to get off my butt and write again. Unfortunately that means I'll have a lot on my plate the coming weeks at least, before I get back into the habit off working full time.

As usual, I haven't betaed this as I should. I'm aware of that. This is meant to be written for fun though, and I once promised myself not to get hung up on getting it perfect, so here we are. I also feel a little bad about being so behind on answering reviews, but I still mean to do it. Just don't hold your breaths waiting, okay? I'll get to it though, sometime. That much I can promise.

Before I let you get on with reading I just want you to know: I love you!

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"Hey!" Hermione swipes at Kakashi's hand much too late. "What was that?"

The temptation of the question is undeniable, and the irritation in Hermione's voice only a for show. "This?" Kakashi asks her, aiming for her upper arm this time. He checks his speed enough for it to be considered normal, and this time she's attentive enough to stop the attack. Almost.

"No, don't do it again, that's not…"

"I believe it's called a poke," Kakashi says before she can finish, cocking his head slightly and smiling blandly. Honestly, she's too easy to rile up for her own good. Eyes narrow at Kakashi.

"I know that, smart ass," she says, like it's Kakashi's fault she didn't ask for what she wants to know. "_Why_ are you poking me?" The question makes Kakashi pause. Because he's known that it was leading here, but now that it has, he's not sure he should have let it. Plan B wasn't meant to lead straight into plan C, which is why they have _different_ letters.

Cowardice, however, was never something he used to see in himself. He shrugs. Makes sure to keep nonchalance in both movements and voice. "It seemed worth a try."

The slant of Hermione's eyes changes, and after so much time together Kakashi knows what it means. "Did it now?" she questions; a dog with a bone if Kakashi's ever seen one. Well, it's his own damn fault, isn't it? He clearly needs to get better at devising strategies for these kind of confrontations.

"Yes," he tells her, keeping his tone unimpressed. Which is, on the whole, his dominating feeling about all of this anyway. That and exasperation. And inadequateness. "You're not listening to me," Kakashi continues, "so I'm trying a new approach."

"Operant conditioning? Seriously?" Hermione's laughing now. Still. There's no doubt the atmosphere in the kitchen is about to be too thick for it soon enough. "Besides, I _am_ listening, what haven't I listened to?"

It's impossible to keep his eyebrows level when faced with such blatant ignorance. Kakashi doesn't even try. If she had listened, even the tenth time, he wouldn't have devised a plan B. The problem with intelligent beings is they apparently call you out on your conditioning; these things are much easier with genins.

"Oh, but come on." Hermione crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the counter, dishes forgotten. "I know you're not sticking around out of politeness. That's not what I said, was it?" Her stare has grown hard, and there's a stiffness to her jawline. "Still, I've got to be allowed to apologize when I'm being an obnoxious know-it-all. Which I am, sometimes."

True to plan B, Kakashi drives his index finger into her deltoid. Hermione throws her hands up but it's not in surrender. If she'd been Sakura, this would have been the time for a tactical retreat. "No fair." Hermione's eyebrows twitch together, forming a vertical canyon between them. "What are you even punishing me for now? Telling the truth?" Before Kakashi can poke her again she swats his hand away.

She could walk away now, Kakashi thinks, but he doesn't believe she will. Curiosity is a powerful thing, especially in Hermione. Still, there's no need to escalate this into an unnecessary fight. Taking a step back he holds his hands out low, palms toward her. Kakashi's chest is tightening. Not seconds ago they were having fun, and now it's this. He's gotten better at this, he has, but he's not _good_ at it. And now the situation is a fuming engine about to blow, and he needs to slow it down. It's far from the ideal conditions for plan C, he definitely went about this in the wrong way, but it's all he has.

"Why?" Kakashi makes sure to soften his tone. Not a lot, but enough to show he doesn't want to fight. "Why would you say that about yourself?" Which is the million ryō question that he can't manage to wrap his head around. Couldn't when they first met and still can't now, and nothing he says seems to matter. "You're smart enough to know it's not true."

Hermione folds her arms in front of her again, her jaw set and her eyes not leaving Kakashi's. In his mind he can't help but see Naruto, twelve years old and completely impossible to talk any kind of sense into. "Or," she says, "I'm smart enough to know that it is?" Something changes in her face as she says it, but Kakashi can't pinpoint what it is or how it translates. She doesn't sound anything like Naruto, is a combination of hard-set and weary that Kakashi's not used to hearing in her. "I know myself, okay. There's no need to pretend. I'm aware of my strengths, and my weaknesses."

That's bullshit, or they wouldn't be having this conversation, but Kakashi can hardly say _that_. "Then pray tell;" he says instead, his dry mouth rubbing off on his tone, "what are they?

In front of him, Hermione's mouth opens. Closes again. She looks away. "Okay," she says. As if pushing her like this is any kind of okay. Only the choice isn't better, Kakashi knows that. He's heard her tear herself down enough to last a lifetime. At first, he hated it because he had no idea how to respond; for how it made _him_ feel. Now, he hates it because he can't stop thinking about how it must make _her_ feel. Which is way worse.

"I'm intelligent," Hermione starts out, "I'm good at organizing and planning stuff, I help out when I can." Worthy things, Kakashi thinks, useful, but not what he'd have chosen. The parallels to his and Jón's discussions about Kakashi's value are impossible to escape, and it's not until he sees it in someone else that Kakashi starts to understand some of the points made back then. "I also meddle," Hermione continues. "A lot. I'm pushy and demanding. Overbearing. Definitely a know-it-all. Do I have to go on?" She swallows, turned away so far Kakashi can't read her face properly. Not that he needs to.

Kakashi's never known himself to be the kind of person who wants to reach out to people. He's gotten used to Hermione, having her close, touching, hugging, giving and receiving comfort, but that's different. This is different. Like he has to physically restrain himself from closing the distance. And it would be easy, wouldn't it? Just pull her into a hug and let the conversation slip away and be gone. She does look like she could need it. Only, it would sort of defy the point, and having come this far he might as well go with plan C to the end of it.

"And you think you're being all those things with me?" He asks, stuffing his hands down in his pockets. The long run is what matters here, and that will need more than hugs.

"I try not to," Hermione says. The sheen in her eyes is enough to put a lump in Kakashi's throat. "I do, but it's impossible to stop being me, and I… I'm sor-" Kakashi can't make himself reach out, doesn't trust his hands to return to his pockets after touching her, so he raises an eyebrow instead. Hermione falls silent.

Breathe, Kakashi tells himself, you can do this. He's already put it into words. Has thought it through. Somewhat. He might not have meant to put plan C into motion, but he can do this. "I don't think you've been meddling," he starts. Slowly. His mouth feels like he's breathing ash. "I think you've cared. And yes, you can be authoritative, but I can't see how that'd be a bad thing, not when you have no problem leaving me in charge when that's more reasonable."

Kakashi forces himself not to look away, not even when twin tears escape Hermione's eyes and roll down her cheeks. If he could stand up after Obito, and again after Rin, and again after Kushina and Minato. If he could lead tens of thousands of shinobi into war. If he could watch Obito die for him a second time. Then he can do this.

.oOo.

Hermione pinches herself in the side, under her arm so Kakashi can't see her doing it. It grounds her, and while using self-inflicted pain for that might be a slippery slope, it's at least effective. Not that it helps with the tears. She should be listening better, she thinks, she wants to remember this. But Kakashi's words float together and the whole world feels out of focus. The meaning, however, gets through. The translations.

The difference between meddling and caring; bossy and driven; obnoxious know-it-all and intellectual; control-freak and responsible; is in the words used. One trait, two words, and Kakashi doesn't say it quite like that, but Hermione hears it none the less. It's in his every argument. In the way he says she's being unreasonable and waves away her objection of years of accumulated evidence with a simple, "if they're insecure, that's their problem, not yours."

"You done yet?" Hermione asks him when there's been a few seconds of silence. His face is blurry behind her tears, but she catches him cocking his head and shrugging. "You owe me a hug then," she says, "for making me cry." There's too much to think about at the moment, too much to process. She'll get there, eventually, bring out her book and write it all down, but for now a hug would be better.

Kakashi scoffs and raises an eyebrow even as he pulls his hands from his pockets. "It's hardly my fault you're crying because you are stupid," he tells her. To stick her tongue out to him in the moments before the hug is a instinctive response. Maybe not mature, but definitely earned. "And don't for a second think I won't poke you the next time you're an idiot." Hermione no longer knows if she's laughing or crying, but it hardly matters.

It's crazy, she thinks, that this is the same guy who she had to drag words out of. Sure, Kakashi had showed himself to be an interesting conversation partner long ago, but this is different. Personal. Emotional even, and Hermione's not sure when _that_ happened. He pulls her close firmly enough that Hermione's momentarily worried he's forgotten his strength. He hasn't, of course, she's even theoretically certain he never will when it comes to her. Like this, pressed up against Kakashi, borrowing the rhythm of his breathing and resting her head on his shoulder, Hermione begins to settle. She's still lightheaded, but the pressure around her chest is externalized. Kakashi's been cooking and smells like frying grease on the surface, but the mix of smells that's _him_ is right underneath it. It's calming.

The head that's been resting against Hermione's shifts. "You _know_," Kakashi says, speaking into her hair, "that a group of people saying the Earth is flat doesn't make it so. I remember you ranting about it at length. This isn't any different."

His reasoning falls on its inherent incongruity. This might be the point where Hermione should break up the hug, but she doesn't feel like looking him in the eyes while speaking. Neither does she want to see what's displayed on his face. "But it is," Hermione tells him, "there are facts to prove the world is a sphere. The way someone's perceived is by definition ruled by opinion." Kakashi sighs, inaudible but obvious.

"Sure, but have you made any actual research on what people think of you," Kakashi says, tapping a finger against her shoulder, "or have you only listened to the loud ones?"

Hermione has no idea how to answer. On one hand, Ron and her mother are both loud and outspoken, and her less charming traits are a standing joke among her Hogwarts friends. On the other, she's aware there's such a thing as negativity bias, and that jokes are sometimes only that. In a way Hermione wants to cry, but right now she predominantly feels drained. There's just not enough of her online to do much of anything right in this moment. Her hard drive's busy trying to rearrange files to find a place for this new information, all requests are temporarily denied.

In just ten days they're leaving for England. Hermione hates it. She doesn't want to lose him, especially now. Two months after she found him in the sheep shed, he's finally himself again. More than that given this conversation, and it feels unfair. They should get more time; there's still things she wants to talk about. She needs to let this conversation sink in and then revisit the topic. To come to terms with what his words can actually mean. Yet in less than three weeks he'll be halfway around the world, taking on a job he doesn't want and might not be ready for. Not to be mistaken; Hermione thinks he's far more ready than he used to be, but that's a crappy comparison given the state of him when they met.

The thing is, she's not sure she's ready to be left on her own again either.

.oOo.

Kakashi's discovered he likes horses. They're kind and calm – at least the ones Ingo lets them handle – searching his pockets with careful muzzles to see if he's got any snacks with him this time. He hasn't, but they still stick around, allowing Hermione and him to slip halters over their heads and lead them out of the pen. These two, Silfri and Fála, they're allowed to ride without supervision and it's the best balancing exercise Kakashi's found since he got here. Especially if he leaves the saddle at home. Hermione doesn't seem very fond of that idea, but then again, she'd probably hurt herself if she fell off. It must be exhausting being a civilian.

"Are you cheating?" Hermione asks him as they pass Heimstaðir. She's winded, having hung on to her saddle as they tried some trotting. Or she did trotting, Kakashi's been trying to figure out the tolt thing. He's getting there, possibly. It's hard to tell.

"I don't cheat," he tells her, twisting around to watch her and Fála behind him. As long as they're on the road they have to walk in a line. "Just because I have a skillset you lack that doesn't make it _cheating_." The buckle of the helmet rasps against the soft skin under his chin. Him wearing it feels ridiculous, not to mention what it does to his hair, but he can't exactly tell Ingo his skull can take far more than a little tumble off a horse. There's no way that'd go over well.

If Kakashi happens to turn back to the front before Hermione has the chance to do any impolite gesturing, that's a complete coincidence. "You know what I mean," she says, her tone an impolite gesture of its own.

"A moment or two," Kakashi admits to placate her, "but I do have an excellent sense of balance. It's really an insult that you believe I have to use chakra to stay seated." He's had to turn around again to make himself heard over the wind, allowing him to see Hermione shake her head. Hanging his head in mock misery Kakashi hides his face as he focuses back on his own horse and spurs it on. Behind him Hermione makes a sound that's equal parts annoyed and amused.

Okay, now: Heavy seat. Legs firmly around, applying gentle pressure. Meet up with reins. Lift head up. Don't forget the seat. And suddenly there is a change in Silfri's gait, not that Kakashi can tell exactly what kind. The muscles under him works differently, higher somehow, and he moves to pat the grey neck below his hands. Which makes him lose it. Of course. It's a victory either way, and by the sound of Hermione squealing behind him it's high time to slow down to a walk before she falls off.

"It's totally unfair you know," she calls out, "it's _not_ that easy."

Laughing is safe here, there's no way she can reach far enough to swat at him.

In the last few weeks, Kakashi has realised his view of her has changed. Not that it was a static thing before, but it's like he's finally learnt to walk without looking where he puts his feet. Since way before he got sent on this bullshit mission, Kakashi's been focused on surviving. Day to day. Second to second. Not that he hasn't cared about others while doing it, but there hasn't been much left of him to spare. Over the last months Hermione's wormed her way under his skin and become important. For his own sake, and for hers. But it's not until now, when he finally begins to feel a little less like he's drowning, that some pieces can really click into place for him. Others have in contrast become jarring with the way they float loosely in his mind.

A few days ago, he managed to make sense of a corner of a picture, and he's not sure he likes seeing it. Nor does he know what he's meant to do about it. If she'd been anyone else, he'd have offered to find the ones who taught her that self-view and teach them a lesson. Only, he has a feeling Hermione would be scandalized if he so much as breathed anything along that line. And honestly, he isn't one for revenge either way; that path never leads anywhere good. It's just nice to occasionally entertain it as a theoretical possibility.

There's also that whole thing where she freaked out when he'd gotten a massage. Kakashi's not stupid, he knows that "too intimate" meant "anywhere, even the smallest bit, resembling sex." It's not a problem that affects him or their relationship, per se, but it's a concern. For her. Because _something_ happened, and Hermione telling him no one hurt her sort of makes Kakashi believe someone did. Just like someone taught her to use negative words to describe herself. Not that he can ask. Not when he's getting the feeling that – whatever the complication is – it's her Rin. And he's not talking about what happened with Rin. Ever. There are some lines that aren't meant to be crossed. What he can do instead is be mindful about being dressed, and make sure to use colourful language rather than wordless sounds when she finds the spots in his back that make his arms tingle. So far they haven't had a repeat of her freak-out, so he guesses he's doing okay.

They reach the point where they can turn off the road and head over a field towards the river. "Gallop?" Hermione says, but it's not really a question as she's already spurred Fála on and is passing him. Kakashi lets Silfri go as well, holds on with his knees and a steady grip of light grey mane. When they were first introduced to the horses Hermione had laughed, claiming that Silfri and Kakashi were an obvious match. It was a hard case to argue, and he does like this horse. Even if he's somewhat copied the Hatake trademark hair.

Kakashi only needs to use a small amount of chakra to stay seated for the bumpy part of slowing down. It's barely nothing really. Can't be called cheating at all.

Wisps of hair is escaping Hermione's braid as they let the horses fall into step next to each other on the riverbank. Her wide eyes and huge grin speak of the good kind of adrenaline rush. Galloping doesn't even come close to giving Kakashi the same – not when something mundane like travelling on foot between tree branches is both faster and higher up – but the uncontrollable element of the horse makes it fun anyway.

Seeing her like this makes Kakashi wish he'd still have the sharingan. Not for fighting this time. Nor for protection. He misses it for the one thing he never appreciated while having it: The perfect recollection. He wants to keep the memory of Hermione like this, windswept and happy, laughing, right there next to him. Wishes he could remember it with the clarity of everything he did seen through the sharingan. That he could get to keep it as an antidote to the death. To the way Rin's face looked as she stepped in his path. He wrenches his thoughts away from that direction. No need to go there.

The soft warmth filling Kakashi is becoming tainted by a hollowness in his chest he dares to name now. Sorrow. He looks out across the valley; the mountains stretching up on their sides, the wide grey skies that goes on forever, the dark water of the river below. Five days until Kakashi will be waving goodbye to Iceland from an aeroplane window. Fifteen days until he'll be leaving Hermione behind as well. Seventeen days until he can use jutsus and channel chakra again, and that's a bleak comfort but it's _something_. That and his friends at home.

In front of him Silfri tosses his head, impatient to pick up the speed again most likely. "I'll miss this," he tells Hermione.

She scratches the brown fur on Fála's neck before looking up to respond. "Me too," she says. Her smile is fading.

"Maa, you'll be back soon." Kakashi knows that's not how she means but can't help wanting to hear her answer.

Hermione's lips are thin as she speaks. "It won't be the same."

Nothing will, Kakashi suspects, too much has happened since he came here.

Silence falls, heavy but not uncomfortable. The wind thugs at Kakashi's jacket and plays with Silfri's mane. A single raindrop hits Kakashi. By now he's learnt that doesn't mean anything in particular here, not like at home where it'd be the first of a downpour.

"Will you be okay going back?" Hermione doesn't mention the becoming-Hokage-part, but Kakashi knows what she's asking. He entertains the idea of laying down over Silfri's neck for a little while but is unsure if the horse will be reasonable about it. Decides against trying and shrugs.

"I'll manage," he tells her. Glancing over Kakashi catches her gaze for a moment before looking away again.

"Not really what I asked." Hermione's tone is one step away from being a question. On any other subject it could be taken as teasing. Or sass, but that's basically the same thing.

Kakashi knows what she asked, he's not stupid, but… "I don't know," he tells her. He's been avoiding think about it too much. Thinking won't change anything. It's not like he has a choice either way. "It doesn't matter," he says out loud. "It's happening. I'll live."

"Wow," a smile can be heard in Hermione's voice, "you have really high hopes for life, don't you?" Kakashi turns to her so she can see him raise an eyebrow.

"I think survival is essential for life, but maybe that's just me?" He keeps his tone dry, perfectly content to pretend this is a random subject of little value.

"Essential? Yes. Which sort of means you're meant to want _more_ than to stay alive." Hermione sticks her tongue out at him, and Kakashi has no doubt she'd try to hit him if they weren't on horseback. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"You've taught me that much." It slips out in a split second of inattentiveness. Kakashi watches Hermione's mouth open, then close. Shit. This was a perfectly acceptable light teasing conversation they had managed despite the atmosphere, and he had to go and ruin it. He's sure he's told Hermione as much before, but that doesn't mean she was expecting it thrown at her like that. "What about you?" he deflects before she can come up with an answer. "What's your plan for after this?"

The short struggle as she chooses which comment to answer is clearly visible on Hermione's face. "I don't know," she finally says, "I try not to think about it. It freaks me out." She catches her lower lip between her teeth and stares out in front of her. Kakashi definitely killed their chance at a lighter mood. It's lucky that the horses don't need much guidance with where to put their feet, allowing him to focus on the conversation.

Staying silent, Kakashi has learnt, is an effective way to get Hermione to give him answers. He feels a little bad, because obviously his choice of distraction was a bit of a sore object, and he should have guessed that. Not much to do about it now though.

"Everyone I know is in the magical world, but I'll never be fully at home there." Hermione looks forward, eyes drawn together. She shakes her head. "It's like I'm in this tiny role, carved out after twelve-year-old me, that can never change. It's suffocating." A breath interrupts her speech, but she's picking up speed none the less. If she was seated somewhere besides on a horse, Kakashi's sure she'd be gesturing by now. "They've all already decided who I am and what that means. And I've _tried_ to change, I have, but I'm not sure it'll ever matter with them. It's like they keep me where I am, and I don't want people simply sticking around out of habit. I want to be somewhere where I don't have to feel like I'm endured_._ Where I don't have to wonder if I'm kept around simply because of politeness or practicalities."

In the short pause Hermione makes, Kakashi feels the pain of the last comment as if it were his own. Worse than that even. Because he was always first and foremost a shinobi, with missions to focus on and teams to work with. If that was everything in his life; well, it did make him a great ninja, didn't it? He could always lean back on that. But what does Hermione have to lean back on?

"Only I can never be completely honest with non-magicals," Hermione continues before Kakashi can finish his train of thought, "and I have to keep the lies straight, and it's exhausting. So I just don't know, because I have two worlds to choose from but I can't really be _me_ in either of them."

Hermione's face is turned away enough that it's impossible to read. Kakashi has no doubt the angle's intentional. He wishes he'd have any idea how to explain to her what he's thinking. But he can't even put words to it in his own mind. "Do you have to choose?" he says instead. "Couldn't you be in both?" It's insensitive and not at all what he wants to convey.

"Sure," Hermione says, an edge to her voice that's dulled by some kind of weariness, "but I'd have to make one the primary one. I imagine myself with a family one day, you know. A house and a steady job. And I'd want those to be in the same world. Not that it seems likely to happen anytime soon, given I'm a complete fuck-up, but I need to make my choice at one point or another. Why not now? Also; the magical world has some rather insular beliefs when it comes to the non-magical world. If I straddle the fence between them, I'll be forever defending my position on one end, and lying about it on the other."

It's impossible to imagine what that's like. There's a rift between shinobi and civilian, sure, but people cross it all the time. Civilians choosing shinobi life, clan members opting for civilian careers, retired ninja, shinobi who never went far beyond the academy and are now serving the village in other ways than fighting. Kakashi himself might be firmly set on the shinobi side, but it's a scale, not a fence.

"You find the people who matters," he tells her. No matter how lost he is about everything else, he knows that much. "The once who can keep up with you, who doesn't use you, and who appreciates you. Not the censored version. You. And you stick with them. Whichever world they belong in."

"Yeah?" Hermione glances at Kakashi. There's a strain around her eyes and mouth, and her tone is a challenge. "You make that sound easy." Fála chooses that moment to make an awkward step down a hole and Hermione sways precariously. Luckily, Kakashi is a trained Anbu, he can refrain from grinning.

"I think," he says slowly, searching for words, "that sometimes you realise they were there all along." Like Gai in his stupid spandex, proving how thin the line can be between rivalry and friendship. Kakashi never thought he'd miss him as much as he does. "Other times," he continues with a wide smile and a dry tone, "they just show up and refuse to go away. No matter how much you mess up." It draws the smallest of smiles out of Hermione. A win if Kakashi ever saw one.

"Sounds annoying," Hermione says.

"At first," Kakashi nods seriously, "but they sort of grow on you. Before you know it, they're nestled into everything. A bit like weed actually."

"I'm not talking to you anymore, you're rude." Hermione's tone is at odds with her words, and it eases something in Kakashi. He did alright with this. Right? "Let's trot," Hermione continues. "You go first, or you'll just be laughing at me."

"I wouldn't dare," Kakashi says. They both know it's not true. He's aware, however, that she feels safer with someone in front of her and he can't deny her that. Not even for a good laugh.

Driving Silfri forward, Kakashi does his best to keep him in tolt. He's still unsure whether he gets it or not.

* * *

AN: I don't know, I feel like this should have went on for a bit longer, but it didn't. I'm not very happy with that, but well, it is what it is. I imagine this to be the last chapter in Iceland as well, but if you find it too awkward I might add a paragraph or three ;)

As usual, I'm happy to hear what you think!

PS: With this chapter we're over 100 000 words of actual contents. Yay! *doing celebratory dance*


	29. Chapter 29

AN: Finally, a new chapter! Life's been a bit crazy with the new job, but I like it a lot. The company and my colleagues are amazing, and I get to do a lot of fun stuff in Excel (yes, I'm one of those). I love it! On the downside there's the whole Corona-thing, and while I'm personally not afraid to get sick, I take my part in stopping the potential spread very seriously. It means since I'm currently having a slight cough I'm not allowed to do much of anything since I shouldn't meet people. Upside to that; apart from working from home, I won't have much to do the upcoming days but watch Netflix and write. Maybe that means I'll get the next chapter out faster. (Although no promises on that.)

I've sucked at answering reviews with everything going on, but I _am_ going to. Eventually. In the meantime, know that I read every single one (multiple times actually) and that they mean so much to me! There's nothing better than to get a notification about a new review, and hearing what you guys think. I love you all!

PS: Someone asked me some time ago if I'm Scandinavian. The review was unsigned, so I couldn't answer, but yes, I am. Swedish to be precise.

* * *

Hermione's mother hugs Kakashi. Which is strange. Then she proceeds to hook her arm into his and drag him with her into the house. Which is plain crazy. Strangers don't usually manhandle Kakashi in such a fashion. Actually, _no one_ manhandles Kakashi. End of story. Getting used to Hermione's tactility took a long time, and her mother is twice the force and none of the familiarity.

Jean, as she introduces herself, chats excitedly about finally getting to meet him and wanting to know all about him. Given the kind of questions she asks, Kakashi gets the feeling she already knows a lot. Given her reactions, she's not very happy with the lengths of his responses. He wonders how impolite it would be to break free and run. He could probably get loose gently, couldn't he? Although her grip _is_ strong, so he can't be too sure. Civilians are frighteningly delicate.

"Mom," Hermione says as she follows them to the kitchen. There's laughter in her voice. "Stop harassing him," Hermione opens the fridge and peers inside. "You don't want him to leave, do you? Then how are you going to satisfy your curiosity?"

"Oh, don't worry," Jean says. "Kakashi doesn't mind, do you?" She turns to him with the last words, and her whole demeanour reminds him so much of Hermione he puts on an unimpressed look and raises an eyebrow without missing a beat. Jean laughs. "I can see why Hermione likes you," she tells him, patting his arm before finally letting him go.

They've barely started making dinner when Hermione's father comes home. His handshake is firm as he introduces himself to Kakashi before moving on to hug his daughter and kiss his wife. Richard's approach is softer than his wife's. The questions he asks is more general, focusing on their trip, meaning Kakashi can leave most of the talking to Hermione. With the buzz in his head it's a gift.

It's not that things haven't gotten better, Kakashi tells himself. They have. It's just that the last few days, as he's been packing up his belongings and said goodbye to one thing after another, he's felt hollowed out. Yesterday morning, as he saw Jón for what he knew would be the last time, they'd talked about it. Because Kakashi knows this trip is nothing but a footnote in the story of his life. It was never meant to be anything else. Only it's grown out of proportion; making Kakashi lose track of what he's going back to, and how things are meant to be once he gets there. It feels like a vacuum, where the insertion has ended and is fading from his mind but reality hasn't caught up yet.

Unreal. That's the word. Everything feels unreal.

Seeing the Grangers work in familiar sync around the kitchen, making dinner and setting the table, doesn't help. Their conversation flows easily between their respective lives, gossip, the latest politics, and news. Kakashi's known Hermione talks to her parents on the phone every now and then, but he never realized she knows as much about their colleagues and friends as they know about hers. It's a long time since Kakashi's dad died, and he hasn't had much experience with every-day family dynamics. He wonders if they're all like the Grangers. If they are, it's not as bad as he expected.

.oOo.

Normalization, Hermione realises as they sit down for dinner, is a powerful process. She hasn't really thought about Kakashi's mask in the longest time. It's become part of his face, not invisible in any way, but normal. Nothing she notices. Not until they're seated in her parents' kitchen, dinner on the table, and he brings out his book.

Like usual, only not.

She _has_ mentioned the mask to her parents. It was just quite some time ago, and maybe she should have prepared them for this. Especially her mother. "So," Hermione says, making sure to pointedly meet her mum's eyes, "what class are you planning to do this term? Will you continue with the salsa?" She turns to Kakashi by her side. "They do one class every term; dancing, arts, cooking, whatever. It's been going on for over a decade."

"We haven't decided yet," Hermione's dad says. She can tell from the way he smiles that he at least got the message. "Bee-keeping maybe, to make something useful with the back yard?"

"Only I think that class will be full of hippies," Jean cuts in, gesturing with her fork. That she continues on the subject is a good thing. "Don't you think casting concrete sounds like my thing though?"

Hermione can't help but laugh. "Seriously? For one, I think you mean hipsters, not hippies; and I doubt there'll be fewer of them in a concrete class."

"Let's not be judgmental honey," Jean winks, "and enough about us. What about you Kakashi, what do you do when you're not working?" Hermione's not sure if she wants to applaud her mum, or hide behind the tablecloth. At least she didn't ask about the mask. Yet.

Kakashi shrugs. "This and that," he says. Hermione takes a strategic bite of pasta to hide her smile. Her mother does deserve it, nosy as she is, and Hermione can tell from Kakashi's tone he's not mocking her in a bad way. "Mostly this," he adds with a straight face when it's clear Jean is waiting for more information.

Across from her, Hermione can see her dad pushing his lips together to not laugh outright. Her mum's eyes are thinning. "You," she points one blue-nailed finger at Kakashi, "are going to be a difficult one, aren't you?" Beside her her husband loses his battle not to laugh and lets out a huff. "Just wait," Jean continues, "I'll drag it out of you eventually."

It's obvious to everyone around the table that, no matter her words, she's enjoying herself. Kakashi's eyes fold into a smile over the top of his book, and Hermione can guess his words before he speaks. "Good luck with that," he says, tone dry but light.

Maybe this is not the time to mention Kakashi's been trained to withstand interrogation, Hermione figures. It can wait a while. "I did warn him about you before we got here, you know," she says instead, smiling at her mother. "It's not like I was going to let him walk in here unprepared."

"Traitor," her mum answers, "I can't believe half your DNA is from me. Maybe they switched babies at the hospital."

"Hn," Kakashi raises an eyebrow and looks from Jean to Hermione and back again. "I wouldn't worry about that."

Shoving him in the shoulder seems like a perfectly valid response.

.oOo.

Kakashi watches the dishes wash themselves. Magically. Like honest-to-God real magic, marching them from the table and to the sink where a sponge is flying around scrubbing them clean. It's giving him a headache. Across the kitchen table Hermione's eyes narrow as she watches him. "Why do it this way?" Kakashi asks before she can say whatever's on her mind. "Aren't there spells that can do it in one go?"

"There is, in a way," Hermione runs a hand over her head, pulling her hair back, "only they're not exact enough for everyday use." She leaves her arm up, her fingers massaging the base of her skull. "I could use a spell to take away all dirt on this floor, for example, and it'd look good. But if I kept using that same spell, I'd either end with a floor that was slowly building up grime, or a floor that was losing its varnish."

In the living room, the tv is turned on. Kakashi puts his arm on the table and props his head up on the hand. It's been a long day. "So," he says, interested despite the slowness of his thoughts, "it'd either be too strong or too weak, and you couldn't tell." Hermione nods. "Is it possible to practice magical control in order to get it balanced?"

Hermione takes her hand down and cocks her head. "Hm," she says, "I actually don't know. I'll have to look into that. I wonder if…"

There's a spark in her voice, Kakashi notices, and infectious energy that makes the corners of his lips tick upwards. He can't make himself follow the details of her longwinded reasoning, is too tired for that, but he knows it's more about her sorting through her thoughts than wanting an answer anyway. She'll forgive him.

Hermione's parents are watching a gameshow as they join them in the living room, dishes done. It involves music and a complicated set of rules Kakashi can't follow. Not that he's very interested. He doesn't know the songs, or the participants, and he has absolutely no idea what the little videos are meant to tell him. The Grangers are guessing answers, commenting and laughing, and Kakashi would have thought he'd feel left out, but he doesn't. Maybe it's got something to do with the steady presence of Hermione next to him on the couch, occasionally explaining things; or it's the simple relief in the fact that while they're watching whatever this is, he not expected to contribute to the discussion.

"By the way Mio," Hermione's father says in a commercial break, "do you want to do something special on Thursday?"

"Not really," Hermione answers, and Kakashi spares a thought to wonder why Thursday is different from any other day. "Maybe we could go to that new Indian place down by the park?" Suspicion slides like oil through Kakashi, and he turns his head to watch Hermione. "It's hardly a big deal, it's not like I'm turning 30."

Kakashi clears his throat. When Hermione turns around, he raises an eyebrow, making sure to tip his head in question. "Something you want to tell me?" Keeping his voice smooth and a too wide grin firmly plastered across his features, Kakashi blinks slowly. Hermione does an excellent impersonation of a small animal in front of a predator. It almost – but only almost, because he's an Anbu and trained better than that – makes Kakashi's mouth relax into an actual smile.

"I did, didn't I?" Hermione ducks behind her drawn up knees before peeking back out. "I didn't?" When Kakashi doesn't move to answer, she continues. "I'm sorry, I meant to tell you. It's my birthday, obviously, but it's not like I care, and I don't want anything, so it doesn't really matter?" Sakura had said the same thing once, and unfortunately her teammates had listened. It had not been a good day. Birthdays might not mean anything to Kakashi, and he's always preferred the ones that slip by unnoticed, but he should have known Hermione would not see it like that. He should have asked.

"In my defence," Hermione continues, bumping her shoulder against his – and clearly, his scary face doesn't work as well on her as it used to – "we haven't really talked about it. For all I know your birthday came and went and you never said anything."

Nope. Kakashi's not touching that. Not even with a stick. Escape and evade. "I don't see how that matters," he says instead. "I don't celebrate, you do."

"I don't," Hermione tries, "it's only dinner."

Before Kakashi can do more than lift an eyebrow Jean cuts in. "And breakfast at bed," she says, a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes that Kakashi recognizes all too well from Hermione. "And cake."

When Hermione turns around towards her mother, Kakashi allows himself an upwards twitch of his lips. It's only been hours since he got here, and Kakashi can't say the awkwardness has gone away, but it's diminished. The Granger home holds an easy warmth that sneaks up on him, in a way that he hasn't felt for the longest time. Obito and him had been invited to dinner with Rin's family once, long ago, and there'd been that one time with Sakura's parents, but they'd been… different. Here, he's not the prodigal son of the White Fang, nor Kakashi no sharingan, or anybody's sensei and team leader; he's just Kakashi. And as just Kakashi it's easy to meet Richard's eyes over the head of his daughter and share a smile at her scandalized tone as she speaks to her mother.

"Mum!" Hermione says. "You're _not_ helping." Despite seeing only the back of her head, Kakashi can tell she's not seriously upset.

"Well," Jean answers, "it's not my fault you forgot to tell him."

Hermione groans, and Kakashi quickly schools his expression as she turns back around. The slant of Hermione's eyes makes him believe she's seeing right through him either way. That's alright, not at all a blow to his confidence in his undercover skills.

"Anyway," Hermione tells him, "I don't expect any special treatment, nor do I want gifts, so don't worry. Like I said; I meant to tell you, but you know." She shrugs, and Kakashi does know, doesn't he? He allows an upwards twitch of his eyebrows and a small hum. "Your turn," Hermione continues.

Uh-oh. Not good. Retreat. He's supposed to be having the leverage in this conversation. This subject already came and went. "My turn what?" he asks.

"When's your birthday?" Hermione clarifies. She turns her head slightly to the side and narrow her eyes. "Did you let me miss it?"

"Maa," Kakashi stalls. He has no intention to answer. Nope. No death wish here. "It came and went." He shrugs. "I don't really keep track." Which _is_ true, although he's also aware of the date he was born, and well…

"If you don't tell me," Hermione says smoothly – and Kakashi can swear she's picked up that tone from him, "I'll let all my friends know you only feel welcomed if people hug you, but that you're really shy about it, so you'll protest just for form's sake."

Anbu training comes in handy at the most varying times. "Do you _want_ them to get injured?" Kakashi asks, making sure to lock down all outward reaction. Hermione merely smiles at him, and for a second Kakashi longs for the time when she was easier to intimidate.

"You wouldn't," Hermione tells him. "Now, just spit it out already. It's not today, is it?" When there's no immediate answer she pressed again. "It is?" Behind her Kakashi catches Jean and Richard sharing a look and trying to look indifferent.

Another thing Kakashi's learnt from his years of active duty is to recognize a fight he's losing, and there's no backup to be had here. "No," he says. "Yesterday, but…"

Turns out that the theory about it being the worst possible answer might be true, given the way Hermione's high-pitched protest cuts him off. Kakashi's pretty sure that the only thing keeping Hermione from attacking him is her parents, laughing at them in the background.

This is a disaster. And one that clearly is about to get worse since Hermione rapidly starts planning for celebrations and baking cakes and what not. As if the concept of Kakashi not celebrating is too foreign to understand. A fact that is not made better after he accidently mentions he hasn't done so since he was five. Kakashi wants to bash his head against the coffee table, only it looks delicate and easy to break.

To reign Hermione back in and make her promise to not go through with any of her crazy plans is a feat. It leaves Kakashi more than exhausted. Duty demands he stay in the living room until nine o'clock at least, but as soon as it's socially acceptable Kakashi means to make his excuses. By now, Kakashi swears this day has been going on for at least a week.

.oOo.

Sleeping is impossible. The house is too loud. The room too quiet. Even the air Kakashi breaths is wrong. It's permeated by some kind of artificial flowery scent that's supposed to make the sheets feel fresh or some nonsense like that, but that only serves as a constant reminder that this is an unfamiliar environment. Behind the chemicals is a softer smell of old paper and dusty carpeting, and Kakashi guesses that this home-office-slash-guestroom doesn't see much use.

Having made his leave over an hour ago, Kakashi should be asleep by now. Instead he lies staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the soft-spoken voices of Hermione's parents in the room next door, the ticking of the clock in the hallway, and the way he can sprawl out unhindered.

It's not supposed to be a bad thing; the way he can sprawl.

Kakashi doesn't sigh, but he breath out, slow and deliberate. The empty space next to him somehow manages to be more compact than Hermione's ever been. It's like a singularity rests there, bending the gravity around it and making Kakashi's ribs ache. He breathes in again and closes his eyes. This is how it's supposed to be; how it will inevitably be, soon enough. Relatively speaking, he's slept alone all his life, he shouldn't be anything but relieved to have space for himself again.

In ten days, he'll be leaving. He might as well kick this stupid habit now. Not to mention the fact that friends are supposed to keep to their respective beds. Jean had simply ushered Kakashi and his belongings into the guestroom, and that had been that. No one but him and Hermione knows about their regular sleeping arrangements. It's not an outspoken agreement, but it's always been obvious. The Icelanders might have been gossiping, but that had been the easier answers to a rather complicated truth and not worth correcting. Here, living under the same roof as Hermione's parents, it's different. Because Richard and Jean thinking they're a couple would come with expectations and complications, and would force them to walk a narrow path between the truth and things Kakashi can't imagine either of them wanting to share.

Only, in ten days, he'll be leaving. And Hermione will be gone. And he'll be on his own either way. And all of this will fade into the strange disconnected dreamscape it's already started to resemble.

When he thinks about it however, Kakashi might need to go to the bathroom. Which is on the other side of Hermione's room. Hermione; who came upstairs not long ago with her parents, and who might still be up. So, _if_ he needed to go to the bathroom, and _if_ the lights were on in her room, it would only be natural to knock, wouldn't it? At that point, if she offered, it'd be awfully impolite to turn her down. He's a ninja after all; if he wants to go unseen, he does know how.

The more he thinks about it, the more he needs to pee, and it's certainly stupid to lie awake because he can't make himself go to the bathroom. No. He can't let _that_ keep him from sleeping.


	30. Chapter 30

There are some complications to living in a non-magical neighbourhood, at least for a witch. Like coming and going. Especially apparating. It can't be done outside the house, for obvious reasons, but it can't be allowed freely inside either. Not when effective wards are needed.

"Sorry," Hermione says, as she crams them into the small space left in the laundry room. She should have reminded her parents not to leave the drying rack out and full of clothes, and can't make herself fix it now. It's warm in here with her jacket on. "It's just, it'll take forever to get to Diagon with the regular communications and since I'm not living here anymore my parents got disconnected from the floo." It's still a source of frustration for her, even years later; the fact that it doesn't matter that her parents are aware of the magical world. The laws where never written with mudbloods in mind, and to this day no one's seen the need to change them.

Beside her, Kakashi is silent. Hermione takes a breath, then moves on before anything else can be said on the subject. "Remember," she says, "make sure to hold on, and whatever you do, _don't_ fight it."

"Maa," Kakashi answers lightly, "don't worry, it's not like a mistake can tear us into pieces or anything." And okay, maybe Hermione has been a bit overzealous about this, but disapparating with non-magicals is tricky to begin with and Kakashi has his own set of powers.

"Don't be a baby," Hermione answers while drawing her wand and offering him her left arm. As soon as he grips it, she turns. No point in delaying the inevitable and all that.

It goes well. They pop into existence in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron and while Kakashi looks a little wide-eyed and ruffled he's neither freaking out nor throwing up. "_That's_ your transportation of choice?" He asks.

Hermione shrugs and gives him a smile. "You'll get used to it," she tells him while leading the way towards non-magical London. He makes a doubting noise at the back of his throat but doesn't question her.

Shopping with Kakashi turns to be an interesting experience. He had told her beforehand, as she researched available stores for him to buy clothes for the wedding, that he wanted it to be painless and quick. Maybe she should have asked him to clarify, or at least taken the hint from how most of his clothing is parts of the Konoha shinobi uniform.

"This will do." Kakashi stops before they're halfway to the medium-priced menswear store Hermione's found. She casts a glance at the window display, and she knows immediately why she discarded this one. It's all expensive brands and airy interior design.

"Um," Hermione manages, "you sure about that?"

Turning to her, Kakashi cocks his head, his eyebrows twitching. "Something wrong with it?" he says.

"Nope," Hermione glances through the window again, sees a well-dressed salesman without a hair out of place. "But it's bound to be expensive. Like really expensive." She comes from a middle-class family, and getting what they need has never been a problem, but stores like that? Not for her, and she knows it.

"Well," Kakashi says, "that should mean they can be effective. Unless there's something else?" He steps to the side and gestures for Hermione to go ahead.

"You're crazy," she says, shaking her head but moving.

"Maa," Kakashi answers, and she can hear the smile in his voice, "tell me something I don't know."

To avoid going first Hermione holds the door open for Kakashi, who saunters in with his hands in his pockets and a way too relaxed stance. The door falls shut behind them, and Hermione's never felt this out of place in her life. Ever. The fancy looking shop assistant steps up to them, and for a terrifying second Hermione's sure he's going to rudely ask them to leave. She's in a pair of H&M jeans and a slightly too worn jacket after all, without makeup and with her hair on end. In Diagon Alley it'll pass as a fashion statement. Here, not so much.

"Hi," the man says with a smile, "I'm Patrick, how can I help you today?" He seems genuine, and is focusing on Kakashi, making Hermione relax marginally.

"I'm going to a wedding," Kakashi says, "which apparently means I need a suit. I don't know the details." He looks up to study the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and Hermione finds herself the centre of attention for the shop assistant. She'd slap Kakashi if it wouldn't be a further demonstration of how little she belongs here.

Patrick gets details about the event from Hermione, guesses Kakashi's size with scaring precision, and sends him into a changing room with a pair of dark grey suit pants and a light blue shirt. The jacket, when it comes on, could be tailored to fit him, and Hermione has to admit Patrick does know what he's doing. There's more questions (yes, the mask will stay on; yes, Kakashi wants to be able to take his jacket off; no, he is not tying a noose around his neck), Patrick hums, goes to get two other shirts and sends Kakashi back into the changing room.

Since Kakashi doesn't have much of an opinion, Hermione and Patrick unanimously decide he's having the band collared one that Patrick has a fancy name for, and Hermione simply calls green. Darkish, Slytherin, green, with a grey pattern on the inside of the collar, peaking out where it meets the mask. It's the kind of shirt that makes Hermione wish she could fill out men's clothes and wear it herself.

Not fifteen minutes later they're back out on the street, and Hermione must agree it was indeed quick and painless. Unless you count the hole it must have left in Kakashi's finances, which he just shrugs at. "I have told you," he says dryly, "repeatedly, that money is not one of my problems. I did mean it."

"Yeah, yeah," Hermione says and elbows him lightly, "I just thought it meant _not a problem_, not _I can buy whatever I want_."

"Maa," Kakashi answers, "you see, buying everything one wants is easy if one doesn't want very complicated things. Like, for example, not being stuck in a dressing room all day. I find it to be a worthy trade-off."

"Filthy rich," Hermione mocks him, "that's what I hear; you're filthy rich."

Kakashi shrugs and gives her a blinding smile, his hands tucked in his pockets. "Well," he says, "that too."

The laugh it startles out of Hermione is more resembling a donkey than anything ladylike. "If that's the case, you," she points a finger at him, "are definitely buying me lunch."

"Now where did that female independence you've been campaigning about go?" Kakashi's voice is meant to sound disappointed, but Hermione can hear beyond that.

"Sorry," she tells him, "the gold digger won out."

Kakashi places a finger against her shoulder and ruthlessly shove her two steps to the right. She avoids hitting the streetlight pole he places in her path by pure luck. They both know that when lunch rolls around, she'll demand to take her part of the check. No matter what.

.oOo.

While shopping for clothes is not Kakashi's thing, he does seem to enjoy poking about in the various stores of Diagon Alley. Mostly, he questions the sanity of things: Why have a Remembrall when it doesn't tell you what to remember? Aren't self-supporting socks impractical to store in a drawer? Who would ever buy their kid a screaming toy? And why would anyone, ever, risk eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans? Of course, that last one calls for Hermione buying them a box. Not that she has any idea how to get Kakashi to try them, but she'll figure something out.

It's been years since Hermione had so much fun in Diagon, if ever. She'd always been too aware of how making fun of the wizarding lack of logic set her apart, and as the years passed most everyone from mixed or non-magical families stopped questioning the craziness. Neither was it something she could really share with her parents, because they were sceptical enough about the magical society as it was. Pointing out weirdness and inconsistencies in too great numbers might have made them question her going Hogwarts.

A small voice in the back of her head reminds her, however, to keep it down, to be careful. Not that she should care anymore; it's been obvious for years that she'll never be fully accepted in the magical community. But she doesn't want to step on unnecessary toes, and she doesn't want to worsen the situation for the new generation of muggle-borns fighting to get make a place for themselves.

It sucks, that nothing she does in this world is ever only representative for herself. That her actions invariably both reflects on, and is seen in the light of, bias and stereotypes. Woman. Muggle-born. Bookworm. Gryffindor. There's so many of them to navigate it's easy to miss out on who _she_ is in it all.

Still, that's just a minor pin-prick-sensation in the back of her head. Probably hormones. Nothing to pay attention to or it might spread; so, Hermione doesn't. All in all, it's an amazing day.

That is, until Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

It starts out great. George is behind the counter, covering the break of whatever newly graduated Hogwarts' student they have hired at the moment. He was always fun and warm and welcoming. Is still, even if the death of Fred and the fact that he's now a father has him more settled these days. Less unruly. Sometimes, Hermione misses the days she was part of the Weasley family. She hardly ever sees George and Angelina anymore. Hasn't even met little Fred. But it is what it is.

Kakashi mentions something about Naruto, and George fires off a wicked grin and offers to show him some muggle-friendly gifts. Or retaliations. Whatever Kakashi wants to do with them. And yeah, George might be _less_ unruly these days, but no one can accuse him of passing up the opportunity for a great practical joke. That, he'd said once, his hand over his heart, would be to defile Fred's memory.

Hermione is a few steps behind as the others crosses the shop towards the non-magical section, momentarily distracted by something resembling a winged pygmy puff that gets entangled in her hair, when Ron steps out the door to the basement laboratory. It's good to see him. It is. While they're not exactly friends anymore, they're, well, something. Hermione still hasn't figured out what, even if they meet regularly. Maybe it's because they don't talk anymore, not just the two of them.

"Hi," Hermione says, trying to hold the struggling fluffball in place. "Please help? With whatever this is?" It's hard not to laugh at the whole thing, so Hermione doesn't bother trying. She tries to look at the little creature, but it's nothing but a brownish green blur at the edge of her vision.

"Sorry," Ron says, laughing as well, "that's Archie. He got a bit of an unfortunate colour, so no one bought him. He lives in the rafters now."

The day started out good, the visit to WWW did, and even the conversation with Ron. Maybe that's why Hermione is completely blindsided by how fast it all goes to hell. They've been talking about Iceland, and how Ron's taking a more active part in the product development, and how they, with a little help from Fleur, are looking into the French market, planning to open a new store there. And Hermione? She doesn't think. Forgets she's meant to walk on eggshells.

"I'm happy to hear that," she says, "I can't believe you've gotten this far." The mood changes with all the brutality of a car crash, fast enough to give Hermione a whiplash.

"Seriously?" Ron says. Cold. Angry.

"Oh, for…" Hermione takes a breath. Reigns herself in and tries to salvage what she can from the wreckage. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I meant the company, going international. That's huge."

"Yeah?" Ron's voice is a challenge now. "And how was I meant to know that?"

The switch from before must have crushed Hermione's ribs as well, because not only is her head ringing, she can't breathe. Ron, of all people, knows her. Should understand that she never means anything but well. That he doesn't is the biggest betrayal of them all. How did they end up here?

"It's not like you ever believed in me," Ron tells her. "You always thought you were better than everybody else."

His words surge through Hermione like white hot iron. "Well," she says, voice calm but hands shaking. "After everything, you should know that's not true. But if it's really what you think? Maybe we shouldn't speak anymore." Before Ron can answer, she turns around and leaves the shop.

.oOo.

Kakashi's aware Hermione is talking to someone downstairs. It's not the kind of thing that passes him by; not in an unfamiliar environment, filled with people with powers and weapons he knows little about. Not to say he's worried exactly – from what he knows about magic he could get out fast enough – more like he's attentive to the details around him. One of those details simply happen to be the red-headed man with clear familial resemblance to George, who stands talking to Hermione.

Ron, Kakashi supposes.

They seem to be having a good time, so Kakashi writes it off, allows his full attention to be on George showing him gadgets and tricks that Kakashi knows he won't buy. He does like the Peruvian Darkness Powder though, and the cheat-sheets, he can see a clear use for those. Also George, being the inventor behind half the tings on stock, can answer a lot of questions about the hows and whys of their function. Kakashi even understands the answers, about 30 percent of the time.

Magic, Kakashi has found, is interesting, quirky, absolutely devoid of logical rules, and a combination of overpowered and underwhelming that he can't quite get a hang on. A witch or wizard can cast spell after spell after spell, and not get more tired than if they were waving a regular stick about. They can apply that power on virtually everything, not stopped by limitations of chakra-reserves or elements or their own connection to things. Hermione can cast a warming charm on _Kakashi_, if the wind gets chilly, then walk away leaving him warm, but she can't use magic to clean her floor. Also, most of the offensive magic Kakashi's heard of can be negated by hiding behind things. Or stepping out of its path. Now, he hasn't actually seen anyone fighting, and he's aware of that, so he shouldn't jump to conclusions. But still. None of it makes much sense.

When the voices downstairs change in tone, Kakashi and George both pause and look down. It's impossible now to get the context of what's said, but Kakashi knows the tone of Hermione's voice as she says she and Ron shouldn't speak anymore. He's caused her to sound like that, months ago now, practically an eternity in the ways that matter, out on a desolated Icelandic road. He still regrets it.

Hermione exits the store, head held high and steps even. Unlike her, Ron slams the door as he disappears in the other direction.

For a second, George and Kakashi shares a look. George with a twisted smile and Kakashi with a raised eyebrow. "Better go after them I guess?" George says.

"Good idea." Kakashi starts down the spiral staircase. He can live without the planned purchases.

"See you on Friday, if not before." George's voice follows Kakashi out the door. He doesn't respond.

Hermione's sitting on a bench, a few houses over, staring blankly into space. Kakashi walks over and settles down next to her, leaving a foot of empty air between them – they're in a public place after all. He's unsure what he's supposed to do now. A tight, cold lump has settled in his chest, telling him that he can't do this. He's bad at this stuff. Kakashi squashes it down, and asks himself instead; what would Hermione do? Turns out, he knows the answer to that.

"Want to talk about it?" Kakashi asks, and his tone might be slightly drier than he had planned, but it's not too bad. It even draws a momentary hint of a smile to Hermione's lips.

"Not really," Hermione says, still staring at the empty air in front of her. "Not now," she glances over at Kakashi, "and definitely not here." Which means some other place, and later, but Kakashi can do that, he can.

"How about going home?" He asks. "I think I've had my fill of magical things for the day."

"Sure," Hermione doesn't move. They sit in silence and Kakashi tries not to let the mass in his chest affect his breathing. "Can you teach me to hit something?" Hermione says.

"_Hit something_, is a very imprecise request," Kakashi tells her dryly, and lets his elbow bump against hers. "But sure, I can teach you to _hit something_. Or someone, if that's what you're after?" It draws a laugh out of Hermione. A win.

"I'm not going to actually hit him," Hermione says. "Whoever throws the first punch loses and so on."

Kakashi shrugs. "Better make sure it's a proper punch then," he says as he stands. Offering a hand, he pulls Hermione to her feet. "If you were to ever decide it's worth losing over."

The rest of the afternoon passes in a bit of a blur after that. It's a nice day, so they practice in the backyard. Hermione is beginning to get the hang of punching with her whole body, when her father comes home. Carrying a cake. And a wrapped gift. Then Jean arrives with a suspicious looking bag.

When they sing for him after dinner, Kakashi swears to himself he's going to kill them all in their sleep.

Unfortunately, despite not having a mother to raise him, Kakashi knows his manners. He grumbles and protests a bit, of course, but he can't be seen as ungrateful, can he? He's a guest in Jean and Richard's house, and they're trying to be nice. Hermione will be hearing about it later, however, because she doesn't look the least bit surprised. Just walks up to her room and comes back down with a gift of her own. As if receiving gifts and celebrations is a reasonable response to the fact that you were once born. As if that was in any way a feat done by _you_.

But oh yes, Hermione'll definitely get what's coming for her. That fact that she laughs as he tells her that only further cements the fact.

After the cake there's the gifts. Which is something Kakashi hasn't been subjected to in forever. Minato tried once, but was wise enough not to repeat it. Now Kakashi's sitting with three wrapped presents on the table, expected to open them under the scrutiny of the givers. It's worse than being put in front of a psych evaluator from T&I.

He gets a knitted sweater from Jean that he has no idea when he's supposed to use and can't see himself in. Unfortunately she's good at guessing sizes, meaning it fits, meaning he'll have to wear it at least once in the next few days. From Richard he gets an electric toothbrush, that he'll also have to use as long as he's living with the Grangers. Kakashi can't figure out what the problem is with brushing by hand but doesn't ask. Instead simply smiles politely, says his thanks, and firmly tells himself not to shunshin out of the room. Why anyone would enjoy getting birthday gifts is a mystery.

Hermione, of course, gives him books. Kakashi knows that the second he grabs the bulky, unevenly rectangular, present. Paperbacks, judging by the weight and the smooth edges. Unfolding the wrapping paper reveals a smallish pile of them. Six, Kakashi counts. Dogeared, with bent covers, and most of them familiar. It's books he's seen in Hermione's hands as she's been reading on the couch, has had stuck under his nose at one time or another, but never found the energy to start on. He runs his fingers along their edges and feels the bumps and creases. Swallows around the tightness in his chest that's replaced the burning awkwardness. Raises an impassive eyebrow at Hermione.

"Not letting me escape these, are you?" He keeps his voice dry.

"Nope." Hermione grins. "I can be quite persuasive; you _are_ going to read those."

"Come back when you have any actual leverage to back that up with," Kakashi tells her. He knows she hears the real answer.

.oOo.

All the upstairs rooms in Hermione's childhood home has dormer windows. Sometimes, she wonders what came first; her love for books, or for the reading nook her dormer has been turned into. With age it's been getting a little short – forcing her to keep her legs bent and reduce the number of pillows and blankets that was once kept here – but it's still her favourite spot in the whole house.

She feels like shit. There are no other words for it. Distractions are great and everything but – by definition – they end. Leaving you slightly sick from too much cake and with aching muscles and bruised forearms. And tired. Exhausted even, but Hermione's unable to stomach the thought of lying in bed with the lights turned off. She doesn't want to be left at the mercy of her own mind at the moment. It's too busy looping around in anxious circles reminding her why she's completely worthless. Not to mention stupid.

Kakashi is just across the hall, and Hermione's entertained the idea of going over there, but can't make herself. Not when he asked, and she told him later, and he should _know_ that means to check in on her again. Telling herself that that kind of thinking is both unreasonable and irrational doesn't make her feel better about herself.

Outside her door, Hermione can hear her dad on the stairs, about to get ready for bed. There'll be traffic in the hallway for at least half an hour then, depending on how late her mum is. Grabbing a cushion to hug against her chest, Hermione leans her head back against the wall and closes her eyes. A few years ago, she'd have told her parents about meeting Ron, but she hasn't wanted to this time. With her mum there's a fifty-fifty chance she'll team up with Hermione against Ron, only to remind Hermione of her faults not minutes later. She'd also be hurt if Hermione told only her father, and she'd rather not put either of them in that position.

When Hermione reopens her eyes, there's a pair of shoes outside her window.

The grip of her wand is smoothened from years of use, and every grain of the wood familiar under her fingers. Her vine wand might have been lost to the snatchers, but Hermione thinks this one suits her grown-up self better. Alder and unicorn hair, unadorned and to the point. Able to blend in somewhat in a non-magical environment. She uses it now for a silent Muffliato, and then flicks it to open the feetless windowpane by her knees.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asks, as the owner of the feet drops from the top of the dormer to land soundlessly on the narrow edge of roof outside the window. He waves like the 15 feet of air behind him hasn't registered at all, and smiles like this is a perfectly normal way of stopping by. For a moment Hermione entertains the idea of a stinging hex.

"You did say I should make sure your parents didn't catch me." Kakashi opens the window all the way and crouches down on the roof with his elbows on his knees, looking like it's a comfortable position. It shouldn't be. Not for long. Hermione retracts her legs enough that he can squeeze inside should he want to. "You look like you could need some air," Kakashi says.

Despite everything, Hermione laughs. "You are insane," she tells him and gets a widened smile in reply. "Let me just put on a pair of shoes and a sweater." Because why not? The fresh air makes breathing feel easier, and Hermione knows that Kakashi won't let her fall. "If I tumble down and die, I'll haunt you for the rest of your life, just so you know," she still tells him as she digs out a pair of trainers from her closet.

"And here I was," Kakashi says, "planning to push you over the ledge to get back on you for tonight."

Hermione emerges from her sweater to raise both her eyebrows in question. She still hasn't managed only the one. "Doesn't sound melodramatic at all," she says as she climbs up on the window seat, "murdering because someone took note of your birthday." If Kakashi didn't have the mask, Hermione thinks he might have stuck his tongue out.

The roof is steep, but the tiles are dry and the trainers give Hermione enough grip to get her up alongside the dormer. She settles on its roof; legs stretched out in front of her on the flatter part and back resting against the main roof. With a cushioning charm it's a decent recliner. Unfortunately, the stars are hidden behind a combination of clouds and city lights.

Before settling down next to her Kakashi presses his hand against the compact air above the tiles, feeling the charm. "Handy," he concludes.

"It's bizarre," Hermione says, allowing herself yet another distraction, "how you can walk on water and level this house to the ground, yet has never seen a feather being levitated."

"Please," Kakashi says, and Hermione can practically hear the sceptical look on his face, "it wounds me you think so little of me. I could level this _neighbourhood_. Easily."

Hermione wants to laugh. To continue the conversation, saying something about him still not being able to float a feather of accio a book. She exhales instead, long and slow to avoid sighing. Her chest feels heavy. For a while there's only the rustle of leaves and the occasional car passing by out on the main road. Hermione closes her eyes. Maybe she could fall asleep up here, where the air isn't as stifling and the darkness is less compact.

"You want to tell me what happened?" It's a question only in the loosest sense of the word, leaving Hermione the choice to answer. Or not. Fifteen minutes ago, she'd wanted him to ask, now she has no idea how to respond.

"I don't know," she says eventually, "it's just… It'll sound…" Stupid, she thinks, but doesn't say. Negligible. And maybe she _is_ overreacting. Not to mention she doesn't want to focus on this at all; it feels like losing. They've got so little time left, and Hermione wants to enjoy it. "It's all such a mess," she says out loud. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"The beginning seems like a reasonable place," Kakashi says, his voice calm and steady in a way Hermione wonders if he can back up. He has no idea what he's getting in to, does he?

"It's a long story," Hermione tries. There are years, after all. Speckled with small spots of complication that never looks like much when you see only one. Until you get the distance and see how widespread the stuff is. Not to mention start to realise, slowly and far too late, how some things where irreparably skewed from the start.

Next to her, Kakashi shrugs. "As far as I know," he says, "we've got nothing planned until lunch with what's-her-name tomorrow."

"Luna." Hermione quiets. She's getting cold, the air cushion beneath her doing nothing for insulation. Applying a warming charm on her hoodie and stuffing her hands in its pockets is easy enough, and she offers the same to Kakashi. The way he melts against the roof as she casts it is evidence of how forced his earlier relaxed stance was.

When the silence has stretched far enough to snap, Hermione takes a breath. The beginning. Maybe she can figure the rest out as she goes. "I was the one who kissed him, you know," she starts. "Smack in the middle of the battle of Hogwarts. It wasn't planned or anything, it just happened. For once, he said something thoughtful, and the fact that I'm saying '_for once_' says it all really. I still haven't figured out why I did it, apart from adrenaline and the overhanging possibility of not surviving the night, and I remember thinking even then, that I had no clue how I ended up there. Or if it was the right thing." Hermione pauses. Swallows around the thickness in her throat. Merlin, she wishes now she'd have listened to that questioning voice in the back of her head back then. Or any of the times it had reared its head in the years to come. "Anyway," she continues, knowing she needs to push on or she'll lose her confidence, "it got the ball rolling, and with everything back then, I think I needed something warm and bright."

Taking her hands out of her pockets, Hermione hugs herself. She wishes she'd have brought a cushion up here with her, then berates herself for forgetting she's a witch. They're on the roof and it's dark outside, it's not like anyone will see her. For courtesy's sake she offers her second conjured pillow to Kakashi, only to make a third when he takes it. With one under her head and one pressed against her chest, Hermione grasps for where she was. There's never been the need to tell anyone the full story before; most everyone is too much of a friend to Ron to talk to, and her mother had been around as it all happened.

"There was a lot of good things, of course. Honestly, I don't know how I'd gotten through the year after the war without him. But there was also…" Hermione breathes, "…there was also moments, right from the start, from before then even, because I'd known him for years…"

"I told myself they'd get better. All of them. And some of them did; some things that was simply him being raised with archaic views of housework. Like how he started out expecting me to cook for him. And wanting thanks for _'helping out'_ with household chores. Or thinking towels never needed washing since he was clean when he dried himself off. And I hear myself saying these things, and it sounds insane. There I was, practically raising him to be a proper grown-up, and…" Hermione cuts herself off. She'd actually forgotten about the towel-thing until she'd heard herself say it. This is slipping into a rant about the raising of the youngest Weasley son, however, and that's not what matters.

"That wasn't even the problem," Hermione says, softer now, and Kakashi's eyes burn against the side of her face. She watches the tops of threes against the dark sky. "I've told myself afterwards that that should have been enough, but it wasn't, and not the other stuff either. I always thought I was smart, and that I wouldn't take any crap or live with someone who was bad for me. Only I wasn't, and I did." Kakashi remains silent in the pause, and it drags more words out of Hermione. She's not sure she could stop now if she wanted to, which she realized she doesn't.

"Ron was… He is…" Hermione searches for a place to start. "Ron grew up with five older brothers and a younger sister. They're an old, pure-blooded family, but poor. His brothers, though, all made names for themselves at school, being head boys, and Quidditch-captains, and famous tricksters, and whatever. There was no way left to stand out in his family, I guess. I don't know. Either way, it was always a thing with him, when others were better, and I…" What used to be a lump in Hermione's throat is now an impassable tumour, stopping her from forming words. There's the beginning of tears in her eyes, but they've yet to escape. She can do this. If she can get her voice back.

"And you were better," Kakashi fills in. The words cut like a knife.

"Not," Hermione manages, then restarts; "I never thought that. More book smart, yes. Better at organizing, yes. A sharper analyst, sure. But never _better_. I've never thought I was better than anyone else."

"I've been a genius most my life, you know." Kakashi's voice is calm yet piercing through the darkness. "The prodigal son of the White Fang, youngest to graduate the academy, youngest jōnin. I'm better than most people at being a shinobi, and in Konoha that's what counts." The words are matter of fact rather than ashamed and Hermione wonders what it feels like to be so confident in one's abilities. "Does that mean I'm worth more than them?" Kakashi continues. "No. Have I worked harder than them? Not necessarily. Life isn't fair that way. But if I were to say we are all equally gifted, that we can all do the same things? I'd be lying and they would die. To let someone think they're as good as me, and then send them out on a S-ranked mission, that's not to ascribe us the same value."

There is a point to his reasoning, only, "it's different for you, your job is…" Hermione is cut off.

"No, it's not." Risking a glance to her side she meets Kakashi's stare. His eyes are narrowed, a combination of thoughtfulness and protest Hermione thinks. She looks back at the empty darkness above her. "The stakes are only higher," Kakashi continues smoothly. "When it comes down to it, it's a matter of how you utilize the resources in a community, and where an individual can contribute effectively while feeling comfortable. That's the same for academics as it is in the military. If you want to have a discussion about whether the differences in paygrade is fair, that's one thing. But don't mix up someone's value with their skills, and don't make yourself less because of it."

There's an edge to his voice by the time he finishes, and Hermione finds she has no idea how to respond. She didn't say that, did she? That skill and value went hand in hand? Because she doesn't think it, never has, only… Well; Ron did. He also made her believe that everyone else would think she saw it that way, and that they did. Turning to Kakashi Hermione opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. Kakashi thinks she makes herself less because of it, and she does. She really, really, does, but that's not enough to make people like her.

Under his mask Kakashi's cheeks twist into a smile that never reaches his eyes. "Sorry," he tells her, "I'm supposed to shut up and listen. We were at the point of Ron not being able to handle how you are intelligent and analytical, both things sought after in most societies."

"Yeah," Hermione can't help but answer, "because I never go off on tangential rants about things, so I'm totally judging you for it." She hasn't begun to think about the main point of his interjection yet and needs to buy herself some time.

Kakashi doesn't take the bait, but lets silence fall between them as Hermione catches up. What he'd said about skill had been slightly off the mark, hadn't it, because surely you can't simply compare things like that? The fact that something makes sense in a military setting doesn't necessarily mean it translates unto civilian society. It's not the same at all. Is it? Hermione will have to think about it later, let it roll around in her head and see how she feels about it. Right now, she's devoted herself to tell Kakashi about her and Ron. Not able to meet Kakashi's eyes as she tries to find her way back into the story, Hermione once again turn her stare out ahead.

"I thought I had…" she starts, trying to sort out her thoughts, "I don't know. Dignity? Self-preservation? Self-respect? Integrity? _Something_, that would make me put my foot down. I used to look at people who were in bad relationships and wonder why they didn't simply leave. Like, didn't they respect themselves enough for that?" Admitting it hurts, and Hermione closes her eyes. Pretending she's alone doesn't ease the pain, but it lessens the humiliation marginally. She takes a breath, ignoring the way it stabs its way down her abdomen, and decides not to stop for anything. It's better not to allow herself time to think. Or feel.

"Then," she starts, "I was sitting on the couch one evening, years later, and I realized there was very little of me left. It had started so small. With Ron being upset that he got average scores at the NEWTs, meaning I never celebrated being top of class. With learning not to question how or why he did things, because he'd get offended, to learning not to discuss things at all, because I'm an obnoxious know-it-all who always must be right. Never mind that you break a vacuum cleaner if you stand on it, or that it belonged to my parents, or that they liked it. I still shouldn't try to catch him out and question his judgement.

"The thing is, I know I'm a wiseacre, okay? No, don't poke me. I am. I question things, and I ask why and how and what if. I just used to think that the people who became my friends knew this and liked me anyway. That they didn't take my questions and remarks as critique because they knew I'm both curious and eager to share things. Only Ron clearly didn't, and he was supposed to know me the best. We lived together. I loved him. So if he didn't, then how could anybody else?

"I told myself that he could apparently love me despite of all that, and if I could just reign myself in, everything would be perfect. My personality maybe not the most pleasant one, my control-freakiness is a standing joke among my friends, but I thought… I don't know… I just… Clearly it was never enough for him.

"And anyway, I was sitting that day on the couch, and I realized I'd been wanting to change the throw cushions for over a year. Ron wasn't interested in that kind of things. I'd tried to discuss it with him, but he never gave me a straight answer. Only, I couldn't go out and simply get new ones, because I was already domineering and kept either making decisions without him or bulldozing over him. So, I hadn't. I'd toned down to the point of self-eradication, and it still wasn't enough. I wasn't meant to go ahead and singlehandedly decide, meaning no decisions could be made since he refused to discuss things since I always "won", and in the end that meant I wasn't the one in complete control. He was. Just in a very passive aggressive, illusive way.

"Not that I left him then. We talked about it, and it was meant to get better, and even saying that now makes me feel fucking stupid. It wasn't until over a year later, when it was getting obvious he despised me, when he'd been trying again and again to catch me out in something, getting nastier and nastier when I either could rationalize my actions or was okay with being corrected, that we broke it off. Not I, we, because even then I couldn't make the decision. Because he said he loved me despite who I am, and I'm still not sure I can hope for more than that. Now though, I'm thinking I'd rather live alone for the rest of my life than have to cut away enough of me that I can be tolerable as a partner."

Hermione's head is spinning. Partly from lack of air, she thinks, and partly from trying to figure out what got included in her monologue and what might need clarification. But mostly from pure, unadulterated terror. In the silence that settles after her words, she can hear her heartbeat rushing in her ears. Feel the coolness of tears on her cheeks and snot smeared over her upper lip. She wipes her face on the sleeve of her shirt and keep her eyes shut. Kakashi might have said before he doesn't see her as an obnoxious know-it-all, but up until this point no one's fully taken Hermione's side in any of this. Her mum had mostly agreed, but also fitted in an I-told-you-so and a well-you-can-be-quite-difficult-sometimes. Her dad hadn't said much about Ron at all, but has warned her off using too long words since she was a kid, telling her they make her sound uppity.

"I'm trying to figure out," Kakashi finally begins, his voice scratchy. He clears his throat. "A more constructive way of telling you you're an idiot." Hermione tries to keep her feelings off her face but can tell by the way Kakashi inhales that she's failing. "Not like that," he clarifies. "You're an idiot for being grateful he loved you _despite_, as you say. I'm not the best at these things, but even I know you're supposed to be loved _because of _who you are."

"But what if." Before Hermione can finish the sentence Kakashi pokes her in the arm. Hard. If there weren't tears running down her cheeks Hermione'd glare at him. As it is, she doubts it would have much effect.

"No ifs," Kakashi tells her. "There are people who love you _because of_ who you are."

_I love you too_, Hermione doesn't say. Those kinds of words are too complicated, too easy to misinterpret. 'I love you' is so easily confused with 'I'm _in_ love with you'. But Hermione loves her parents and her friends, chocolate and books, the worn-soft sweater she inherited from Harry and the smell of newly mowed grass. She's not _in_ love with any of those things. "Right back at you," she tells Kakashi instead, glancing over to meet his eyes for a second.

Before things gets awkward Kakashi steers them back onto the subject of Ron, and what happened that afternoon. Hermione talks until her throat gets sore, and then continues talking. Tells him about this day and others, about how Ron knew how much it hurt her that her unpleasant sides (here Kakashi pokes her again) were a standing joke among their friends but still went there, about the catastrophe of her trying to teach Ron to drive. Once she's started there's no stopping. Hermione didn't even know she had so much to say on the subject, and that is without touching the… eh… more intimate issues.

Kakashi has an impressive vocabulary when it comes to synonyms for asshole, Hermione discovers, as he uses a variety of words to describe what he thinks of Ron's actions at different times. Yet mostly, he listens. Which is really all Hermione needs. He listens and asks and every now and then points out that she's being an idiot, again.

It ebbs out eventually, into a slow-moving conversation about growing up as someone who picks things up faster than the rest of the class. About being challenged too little and forced to drag others along too often, and in Hermione's sake; all the while being reminded she should conform. Be a good girl and not think too much of herself. Focus on helping her peers, instead of asking too complicated questions in class. To quiet down, to hold back, to not be a distraction.

Humming, Hermione is trying to grasp an elusive thought when the cushioning charm snaps. It's not audible in itself, but the way she and Kakashi crash against the tiles a few inches beneath them are. There will be bruises tomorrow. Hip and elbow at the very least. "Ugh," Hermione manages, rolling on the ridged tiles to sit up, "and that's why witches still need to buy real, manufactured furniture."

"Clearly," Kakashi says dryly. He's lying on the roof like nothing happened and it's comfortable this way as well. Hermione vanishes his pillow.

"Come on," she says, holding back a yawn. "I'm exhausted. For some reason I feel like I've gone over my messed up former relationship with a fine-tooth comb, while crying an awful lot."

"I wonder why." Kakashi sits up, leans forward to place his hands by the edge of the dormer roof, and vaults down in front of it. Hermione throws her remaining pillow at him, but he ducks away with ease. "What are you waiting for?" he says.

"I was waiting for you to gain some sense," Hermione tells him, "But I see now that's a lost cause."

"Maa," Kakashi says, "I didn't take you for naïve. It's good you realize your mistake. Now get a move on or I'll leave you out here alone."

.oOo.

Kakashi wouldn't leave Hermione on her own out on the roof. Obviously. She's a civilian, and could slip and fall and kill herself any second, none of which is going to happen on his watch. It would be great if she sped up though, because he's tired and unsettled.

For months, Hermione's been a rock. Steadfast, wise, persistent. Without her, Kakashi doesn't know where he'd be today. Or rather, he does know where, but he prefers not to think about it. It's never been a secret that she has things of her own to deal with; that she's familiar with anxiety, darkness and desolation, Kakashi just never expected… well, this. For someone who's intelligent and rational, who's always been able to make sense of his messes, to be utterly blind when it comes to herself.

Meaning it's suddenly up to Kakashi to be Hermione's Hermione, and by God does she deserve someone better.

There's a memory however, from what feels like ages ago: It's okay to say you don't know what to say, it whispers. The important thing is to listen.

Tonight, Kakashi has discovered he can do that. These months has given him quite a crash course, both in dealing with Hermione in every possible state of mind, but also in having Hermione deal with him. Human beings fall apart, and while it hurts in every fibre of Kakashi's being when it's happens, he knows now it's not dangerous. In this it's more like he's the conductor, having Hermione's pain use him for grounding. Of course it's terrifying, receiving that much power and being trusted not to accidently injure, but it's also…

Good.

In Kakashi's stomach there's a small pocket of warmth that has nothing to do with any charm, and everything to do with being trusted and able to help. Not that that stops him from feeling nauseous. Or angry. Or devastatingly sad. But it makes it worth it. Kakashi's gone to war before, and he'll do it again if that what it takes. For Hermione against Hermione, and it's confusing but also completely clear. The only regret is how little time he has left, because even after everything shared tonight, he guesses the wounds run deeper than what's been said. That every harshly spoken word might need to be negated, one by one, before Hermione will be able to understand rather than just hear.

Seems like Kakashi is doomed to forever be slightly too late to save his friends.

* * *

**AN:** It took me more time than I thought to write this. I had a lot of fun with the first part, but then got stuck on the second for a while. I've lived the relationship I imagine Hermione and Ron would end up having, and I had to gather my thought around it. It's further back than me being burnt out, meaning I had to dig deeper to get it out. It feels cleansing to have it in print now though, no matter if parts of it isn't my finest literary work. I've really been looking forward to this part, where Kakashi is in a place where I imagine him being able to listen to Hermione, and occasionally be the voice of reason. There's so many things I think she needs to get perspective on, and this was a major one. That said, it's also hard when the balance between them change. Please let me know if they slip out of character. Or you know, other things you think about.

You should know by know I love you, but it bears repeating: I love you! Thank you for joining me on this journey.


	31. Chapter 31

AN: It's way past my bedtime. I've done most of the proofreading of this in the middle of the night, and I don't care. Writing this has been a great deal of fun, and I couldn't wait to share it, so here we go. All mistakes are mine, and I blame them all on too little sleep and too much coffee. Hugs for everybody, and take care of yourselves out there in these crazy times 3 (trying to make a heart here, fn only displays the 3, you get the sentiment)

* * *

"I'm sorry to wake you hon- oh!" It takes Hermione's brain a moment to catch up. In her defence it's very early in the morning, and she's only been asleep a few hours. That, and her mum's not supposed to be here, and Hermione's curled up, perfectly comfortable and warm with her arm wrapped around. Kakashi. Oh shit. Kakashi, who's blinking awake next to her and squinting at her mum, who's now laughing loudly, and Hermione is very much awake now. "Well look at this, aren't you two adorable." Burying her head in her pillow doesn't let Hermione miss the glee in her mother's voice. She will never hear the end of this. Never. "So, how long has this been going on then?"

Hermione turns to glare at her mum, but she thinks the effect might be somewhat dampened by the blush she can feel spreading over her face. It doesn't get better by the fact that Kakashi beats her to answering. "A couple of months," he says dryly, and he sounds far to composed for Hermione's liking. "Is it a habit of yours to go barging into unsuspecting people's bedrooms or did you actually want something? I'm trying to sleep here."

"Never mind me," Jean answers, "I was just asking my deceitfully conscientious daughter – who swore to me not a week ago that you two _did not_ have a thing – if I should buy anything special for breakfast tomorrow." She focuses on Hermione with the end of her sentence, and her mirth is poorly hidden. Hermione doubt she's trying very hard.

"No," Hermione answers, trying and failing to sound indifferent. She feels like a teenager. "Now get out."

"Sure honey, just let me," Hermione realized her mum's fishing in her pockets. For her cell phone. It's probably lucky her wand's not in her hand.

"If you take a picture and Instagram me," Hermione hisses, "I'm going to hex every single thing in this house to sing Christmas songs for a year."

Jean raises her hands, but is laughing hard enough that they shake as she backs out of the room. "Babe," she hollers the second she's closed the door, and Hermione knows she's meant to hear, "guess who I found in our daughter's bed?"

"No way?" Her dad shouts back from the kitchen, and Hermione can hear him laughing as well.

Okay. Calming breath. Go through what just happened. Wait a minute. "What?" Hermione hisses and pushes Kakashi in the shoulder, "was that?"

He flips unto his back to look at her, eyes folded into a smile that's not at all as innocent as it wishes to be. "I'm pretty sure it was your mother?"

"Yes, my mother. Are you telling me you couldn't tell she was coming in enough time to hide? Because I have a very distinct memory of you saying a seconds warning, while in sleep, would allow you to take out a squad of wizards coming to kill me. So, which one is it?" Hermione thinks she knows, has suspicion sliding through her like oil, but she still wants to hear the answer.

"It's not like I'm on high alert for you mum. Or are you saying she's a threat?" Kakashi crawls further down under the blanket. "Can we go back to sleep now? I had a very trying dinner yesterday, I'm exhausted."

Hermione blinks, her thoughts connecting fully. "You bastard," bracing her back against the wall, Hermione uses her arms and legs to push Kakashi away, "you did that on purpose." Kakashi goes over the side of the bed but grabs onto the blanket and rolls up in it as he falls. The air in the room is chilly in Hermione's pyjamas.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kakashi says, "not to mention that's a very serious allegation coming from someone who arranged a needlessly traumatic birthday party for me yesterday." Trying to hit him with his pillow turns out to be a bad idea; Kakashi simply snatch it from Hermione's hand and places it under his head. Hermione can't decide whether to scream at him or laugh. This will turn out disastrous, her mum pestering her with questions for weeks and generally never letting her live it down.

Grabbing her wand, Hermione conjures another blanket for herself. A moment of inspiration also makes her cast a slowly increasing heating charm on Kakashi in his cocoon. He's looking way to snug and pleased with himself to be allowed to go unpunished.

.oOo.

"I still can't believe you did that," Hermione says on the walk from the apparition point to Luna's home. They're in a forest, and Kakashi is oscillating between feeling crowded and right at home. He's used to wide open landscapes by now, and the air here is still and stuffy, but it also smells like a mix of rotting leaves and sun warmed greenery. It reminds him of the woods around Konoha, only smaller. Much smaller. Most of these trees have trunks slimmer than the branches he's used to running between.

Hermione's been saying variations of the same things all morning, and Kakashi stops now, on a stretch of path cameo painted by shadows. There's a tension in his limbs and an ache in his chest that he'd rather deal with before they reach their destination. "Are you angry?" He asks as Hermione turns around in front of him. He meant for it to sound less, well just less, but by the way she tilts her head and watches him she caught on to the underlying feeling.

"I…" she hesitates, sighs and looks up at the patchwork of green leaves and blue skies. Before she speaks again, she comes back to catch Kakashi's eyes. "Maybe not really," she tells him, scratching her cheek. "Don't get me wrong, mum knowing will be a nightmare, and I fully intend to drag you down with me; but it's also," she cuts herself off with a shrug. "You'll be going home in a week, and all this sneaking around is exhausting, and now we won't have to do that. Only, they'll go from seeing us as friends to expecting us to be a couple, and mum will be saying all sorts of inappropriate things and…" Hermione wraps her arms around herself and looks away.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi says. He's not sure if it's for him outing them to Jean, or for whatever happened that makes Hermione react like this. Probably both.

"Yeah?" Hermione questions, visibly pulling herself back from wherever her mind went. "Because I'm not sorry at all for yesterday, and especially not the fact that mum will guilt you into wearing that sweater before leaving." The grins she's giving him at the end of the sentence is all the reconciliation Kakashi needs. They're good, he can relax.

They let easy banter carry them over the few minutes of walking left before the trees give away to a clearing and they reach Luna's. It's a small wooden cabin, surrounded by haphazardly patches of growing vegetables and other random plants. The path is broken by a wrought iron gate with an intricate moon pattern that isn't connected to any kind of visible fencing. It squeaks as they open it and pass through, and the sound makes the door to the cabin fly open.

"I'm in here," is shouted from the inside, "I'm just finishing up some," the sentence is lost to coughing and purple smoke billows out the open door. Kakashi glances at Hermione but before he can say anything Luna herself appears on the porch. Her blond hair's sticking out everywhere and she gathers it into a bun at the top of her head, securing it with her wand. "Sorry about that," she says, "the potion I've been working on is a bit finicky. But the weather's good, we can eat outside."

"Hello to you too," Hermione says and steps in for a quick hug. She greets most everyone that way, Kakashi's noticed, although the closeness and the time vary with different people. Given this one Hermione is far better friends with Luna than she was with George.

As they step apart Hermione introduces Luna to Kakashi. Luna eyes him for a second, then smiles. "You're Hermione's friend," she says, "so you're my friend, and that means you also get a hug." She closes the distance between them, and half-hugs Kakashi with one arm around his shoulders and their bodies apart. He stiffly returns the gesture. "Don't worry," Luna says as she steps back again, "I didn't like it at first either. It'll grow on you."

Kakashi has a hard time knowing what to make of Luna. Luckily, her and Hermione quickly gets into a discussion about what they've been up to; Luna having been to a dragon-reserve and is now trying to invent some kind of potion, and Hermione and her time in Iceland. By the speed of the conversation it's clear they've kept in touch. Occasionally, Hermione throws in an explanation for Kakashi, but overall he doesn't mind being left alone for a little while. It gives him the chance to get a feel for their host.

"Yesterday, Kakashi asked me if spells have different speeds," Hermione says as they settle down for lunch by a round garden table that wobbles slightly on the uneven ground. "Do you know if they do? I'd never thought about it before."

Luna pauses with the salad cutlery hanging over the bowl, lettuce dangling from their claws. Cocking her head, she looks at Kakashi. "That's an interesting question." She smiles before looking back at her hands and moving the salad to her plate. "I think some spells are definitely stickier than others, but I'm not sure if it's connected to my magic specifically or a general thing. How did you come to think about that?"

For a subject to get dragged into, Kakashi could think of far worse ones. He's sure that's why Hermione picked it. "I was noticing how some spells are little balls of light, and others are invisible," he explains, "and I started wondering if energy was wasted on producing the light, or if it was simply a matter of how condensed the magic is. One thing led to the other." He accepts the salad bowl as it's passed his way, filling up the space next to his pasta.

"I'm not even sure why some spells are visible and others aren't," Hermione says. "I mean, I have a few guesses of course, but I've never read _anything_ on the subject." She makes it sound like it's a personal slight against her. "Like, does magic even follow the laws of conservation or transformation of energy? It's like no one ever studied the borders between the laws of magic and physics."

Luna nibbles at a Fusilli, her eyebrows drawn together in thought. "If we're speaking offensive spells," she says, "which I guess is where it's most relevant, I believe invisible magic tends to have a wider target area, don't it? Like shields or blasting curses."

"Both things which would logically need less precision," Kakashi remarks.

"Exactly," Luna nods, "while other curses require better aim to be effective."

"But then why wouldn't transfiguration spells be visible?" Hermione says around the food in her mouth, swallowing before she continues. "Magic is so illogical sometimes; it drives me crazy."

The subject lasts them all through lunch, and Kakashi finds himself enjoying the meeting more than he'd have guessed. Luna, he is beginning to suspect, is whip smart and scarily observant behind her odd exterior. She might have a slightly looser view of what constitutes as facts than Hermione, preferring to go with what's not disproved rather than what is proved, but it makes following their conversation all the more interesting.

"Could you tell the difference? In speed I mean. If we did some testing?" Luna looks at Kakashi from behind her plate as she licks up the last of her sauce.

"No." Kakashi shuts him book and places it back in his pocket. "Why would I?"

"You're a shinobi, aren't you?" For some reason, it doesn't surprise Kakashi. Not really. He did think, not a minute ago, that she was scarily observant. What does surprise him, however, is how calm he feels about it.

Hermione, who was just taking a sip of water, sputters and coughs. "What?" she finally manages, her eyes wide.

"A shinobi," Luna repeats, "a ninja." She turns back to Kakashi and makes a face that wrinkles her nose. "I'm sorry. I really thought she knew, what with the heavily redacted fire-thing and everything."

"There's no such thing as shinobi," Hermione tries weakly, "they're a myth."

"Well, you always where a bit insular," Luna tells her. Kakashi bites his tongue to keep from laughing, he's too keen on seeing how this plays out to risk drawing attention to himself. "You don't even believe in Heliopaths, no matter the evidence."

"Anecdotal evidence is not the same as facts," Hermione says, temporarily distracted, "just because some says something it's not true." It's clear this argument is well-worn in their relationship, and Luna literally brushes it away with a wave of her hand.

"Pft," she says, "my dad did extensive research on shinobi when I was in Hogwarts. We even meant to go to Japan together the summer after sixth year, but," she shrugs. "Anyway, you," turning to Kakashi Luna tilts her head and raise her eyebrows, "are clearly not a regular muggle army-whatever. It's very obvious if you just open your eyes."

Kakashi allows himself to smile, but makes sure it has an edge. "Now, let me see if I get this right," he says, knowing his tone is the perfect blend of chipper and dry. "You're telling me you think I'm part of a secret society of mercenaries, spies and warriors, and then what? How did you see the end of this conversation? _If_ that was true, why would I ever confirm it?"

The fact that Luna doesn't blanch makes Kakashi decide he likes her. A lot. "Oh no," she says instead, completely relaxed, "I don't need you to confirm anything, Hermione already did. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone and even if I did people seldom believe me. You're quite safe."

It's impossible not to laugh at that, especially given Hermione's horrified look.

.oOo.

One upside to Luna calling Kakashi out, is he can finally get a proper demonstration of offensive and defensive magic. It's not something Hermione would ever be able to do on her own, especially not in her parents living room. It's nothing complicated, but it's enough. Just having a feel of what a magic duel can look like allows Kakashi to picture it used in a real fight, with spells meant to do harm. It could get messy, he concludes, with deadly projectiles flying in all directions, but not more than that. Curses are still relatively small moving objects, slow enough to duck away from or stop in their path. He might not be able to tell which ones will kill him on impact, and as such each one needs to be considered deadly, but the experience still calms him. Wizards with wands are more problematic than wizards with guns, but it shouldn't be more than a low B-rank. At worst. No need to worry about having them surrounding him for the whole of the wedding Saturday.

A bit of nagging is needed to let Kakashi convince Hermione to stun him. He takes the charm in the shoulder, feels the instant shut-down of his energy and mind, and then remembers nothing until he's waking up with two faces peering down on him. Okay, that was interesting. Maybe low B-rank is a bit of an underestimation considering how helpless he'd been when the spell hit. Mid to high B-rank is probably fairer. It could be okay to be a little bit more attentive than usual then, couldn't it? It's surely not paranoid.

Apparently, Luna's working hours follow no regular schedule because lunch is allowed to sprawl out all over the afternoon. There's pie after the duelling, with blueberries and something else Kakashi doesn't recognize. It's way too sweet for his liking, but he eats it none the less. Luna still doesn't ask about the mask or the book he eats behind, and Kakashi is grateful if surprised. She doesn't seem like someone who hold to conventions, but maybe she's already has her explanation figured out.

The shadows from the trees surrounding them has been growing steadily with the hour, and are nearing their table. It' about time to head home, Kakashi thinks, when Luna leans her head against one hand and turns to Hermione. "I talked to Charlie yesterday," she says. Kakashi's heard enough about the dragon reserve by now to recognize she's talking about Ron's older brother. Her tone is careful in a way that makes Kakashi's heart skip a beat. "He told me you and Ron had a fight."

Sighing wouldn't help the situation, so Kakashi doesn't. The relaxed atmosphere isn't gone, but it's heavy now, and he wonders where Luna is going with this.

"Yeah?" Hermione asks. She sounds tired, and in a way that's worse than every alternative Kakashi can come up with. Because tired most likely equals resigned, and she should be fighting. "That's awesome. So how many Weasleys dislike me now? Am I still invited to the wedding?"

"That's not funny," Luna says and Kakashi couldn't agree more. "And of course you are, Ginny knows her brother perfectly well and you're as much as sister to Harry as Ron is a brother. Don't be ridiculous." Hermione looks away, and Kakashi can't decide if he wants to scream, or hit something, or run away. He does neither; sits quietly instead with the knowledge that he doesn't know these people. There's likely nothing he can say or do that will make a difference.

"We've managed to keep it civil for years," Hermione looks between them as she speaks, "I could have kept it together until after the wedding."

Kakashi bristles at the implication. "I fail to see how that is solely your responsibility," he can't help but tell her. He wants to say something harsher, but knows very little about Luna's relationship with Ron. Not to mention he'd risk breaking the trust he was given yesterday if he spills details Luna is unaware of.

Hermione tilts her head back and Luna sends Kakashi a quick smile. "I'm with Kakashi," Luna says into the silence before it becomes oppressive. "I mean, Ron might be my friend, but he can say very nasty things sometimes, especially to you." She drags her spoon through the leftover sauce on her plate, quiet for a moment before continuing. "I'm happy you broke up," she tells Hermione, "you were breeding dementors."

"Was it that obvious?" Hermione glance back down, and Kakashi wonders what she's thinking. This is not the time to ask, however.

Luna nods, her serious face at odds with the multicoloured crystal earrings that bounce against her neck with the motion. "At least after a little while. But there was no point pointing that out, because you weren't thinking with you head, were you?" She watches Hermione. Given what he was told yesterday Kakashi feels it to be an obvious conclusion, but Hermione blinks back, eyes wide.

"Did a wrackspurt get to you?" Luna asks. It doesn't seem like the right time to question the meaning of it.

After a false start from Hermione, and a silence that are stretching too thin, the need of an intervention is beginning to build. Maybe, asking about the wrackspurt would have been a good idea, but it's a bit late now. Kakashi turns to Luna instead. "If you broke her," he says dryly, "I'm going to be upset." On the subject, yet enough of a sidestep that it can work as a way out if that's what's needed. Kakashi is almost proud of himself.

"Oh," Luna says, with a smile, "don't worry." She meets his eyes for a second, and Kakashi swears she sees right trough him. If this conversation was about him it'd be eerie. People aren't meant to be able to get a read on him, at least not easy. Or has he gotten it all wrong? Lately it sure has seemed that way.

"Easy for you to say," Kakashi answers before the pause gets noticeable, "I'll be the one bringing her back to her parents." He makes a show of looking around. "Although you might have to give me a map. This apparition-thing is messing with my sense of direction." With shunshins he's at least aware which way he's going, can't rip through the fabric of reality and pass through walls and closed doors to pop into existence at some random place.

Visibly ripping herself out of her head and into the conversation Hermione gives him a sharp look. "You are not," she stabs a hand towards him, "throwing me over your shoulder again."

She's decided on a change of topic then. Kakashi can work with that. "Again?" Luna's voice tries to cut through, but Kakashi's already started responding.

"That's what I'm getting for being a gentleman and _not_ leaving you behind, is it?" he says, mock hurt with a hand over his heart. Pretending everything is fine and nothing happened is something he's been practicing for both long and hard hours. It's not quite as natural as breathing, but it's definitely something he can do in his sleep.

"It was really uncomfortable," Hermione complains. Kakashi raises an eyebrow.

"For three steps," he tells her, "three. Try getting carried home from Suna by Gai, now _that's_ uncomfortable. In a lot of ways." It's not a thing that matters if it's shared, the details of the hows and whys can be blurred enough for it not to be an admission of his status as shinobi. Luna knowing about it isn't an excuse to break mission parameters after all. He's not going to give Tsunade a reason to be upset, it's bad for Konoha's collective health.

"Suna?" Hermione echoes. "As in?"

"Yes." Kakashi cuts her off before she can get into details. Propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin against his hand he watches as Hermione lets it sink in and Lunas's eyes keep going back and forth between them as if she's watching a ping-pong game.

"Why?" Hermione asks, her voice heightened by what might be disbelief. Or badly concealed suspicion.

Kakashi shrugs. "I might have overdone it a bit," he tells her. Her reaction is as good as he hoped; eyes twitching and brows coming together.

"A bit?" she says, and there's life in her voice, an easiness that lets Kakashi know he's succeeded in distracting her.

"They put me in hospital for a week," he tells her. "Which was a bit over the top, but Tsunade played the commander-card." He doesn't call her Hokage, not with Luna right there, because she's researched shinobi. If she figures things out is hardly his fault, is it? Following the rules is all in the details after all.

Hermione is busy shaking her head, which gives Luna the opportunity to repeat her question. "I'm still at the part where you threw Hermione over your shoulder," she says.

Of course, that means they need to tell her the unredacted story about the fire. It takes some carefully chosen words, especially when it comes to getting over the river, but Kakashi is certain Luna gets the meaning. And who knew, it's actually quite humorous when you look back at it like this and refrain from mentioning the aftermath they all know took place.

.oOo.

Hermione can't sleep. Kakashi drifted off a long time ago, the skin of his arm warm and soft under Hermione's palm. It's all the contacts she can bear, grounding as it is. Is too hot under the blanket for anything more, too cold if she lets a shoulder or a leg outside, too stiff and tense to stay in one position for long either way. Tonight, if she was alone in the room, she would turn on a light and read, or get up and walk around. But as she doesn't want to wake Kakashi, she stays, as still as she can.

Her mind is spinning, a million miles an hour at least. She's tired, yet fidgety, with her own pulse loud and fast in her ears and gravity pulling her chest down and making breathing heavy. Anxious, is one word for it. Stressed. Worried. Uncomfortable. Ashamed. Introspective. Sad.

PMSing is the one word she _can't_ use, which is too bad. At least then she could tell herself this is all hormones; it'll wear out in a few days.

Watching the clock on her bedside table go from 23:59 to 00:00 is the last straw. It's officially Hermione's birthday, and she's been laying here for over an hour unable to fall asleep. Sliding out from under the blanket she slides down to the foot end of the bed and climbs out. Kakashi sleeps on, not quite snoring. She's pretty sure he's missed the fact that there'll be singing and breakfast in bed tomorrow, and he'll be stuck between her and her parents. Given this morning, Hermione didn't feel it necessary to remind him as they went to bed.

Her cell phone is on the bedside table, and she brings it to the window seat, wrapping herself in the throw blanket kept there. If she can't make sense of it, of her and Ron, her heart vs her mind, and destructive relationships in general, the internet is bound to have something to say. Research has always been her go-to coping method after all.

In the cold electronical light, with Luna's words about her not being ruled by her head at the forefront of her mind, Hermione reads. She wouldn't go as far as calling her relationship with Ron abusive, but she reads about it anyway. About people who, like her, thought they where to strong in themselves to end up there. About relationships starting out passionately, with a feeling you had something truly unique, with tear-filled love confessions, a deep connection, and then sometimes; with small things that gives you a sour taste at the back of your mouth. She reads about other people explaining those things away, rationalizing and making up excuses and telling themselves that it'll get better. How the small things get normalized and you're so used to that pinprick sensation of wrongness that you never notice how it's applied to bigger and bigger things. But still, through it all, that incredible bond and symbiotic relationship. The feeling that no one else will ever get you this way.

And Hermione wouldn't call what she had with Ron abusive, but by God it has a lot in common with those stories, doesn't it?

It also makes her question the unequivocal truth of her being ruled solely by her mind. Her ending up where she did should be clear proof she's not all brains. That her heart holds power. Otherwise she wouldn't have gotten dragged in, would she? Their very relationship had even upheld that idea, made it a fact no one questioned. Every doubt, every misgiving, could be explained with her not being able to listen to her heart and give in to what she was feeling. It was the perfect way to rationalize away any hesitancy; blaming her intelligence and sharp mind, saying it was sabotaging her. The problem was never their relationship, it was her not being able to relax and fall all the way in love. Or so she was told, and told herself.

The concepts are slippery and unsubstantial. Like holding on to water, possible for a limited time, but difficult. It's there, but the shape is changing and once she feels like a thread is beginning to unravel, she loses it. If her heart can trick her mind, and her mind can get lured into false hopes and deceitful rationalizing; then where lies the difference between the two? Where does her levelheaded, logical side end and her emotional, trusting, self-sacrificing side begin? They're supposed to be dichotomies and Hermione might need a little time to come to terms with them having worked together to bring her down.

There's an itch on Hermione's cheek that she realizes are tears. She wipes them off on her pyjama t-shirt and leans her head back against the wall for a moment. It's not acute sadness she's feeling, rather the outlines of a bottomless grief. How did she ever end up here? Years later and still not back to what she'd been. Not sure if she'll ever will be. And now with the sudden realization she hasn't understood anything about the basic components creating this mess. That she's built it all on lies.

.oOo.

Kakashi doesn't know what wakes him, exactly. There's no sound he can pinpoint, no movement (which is staggering in itself, because Hermione is _not_ in bed, meaning he's so used to her presence by know she can walk the room without him noticing), nothing. Hermione's sitting curled up in the widow, her phone hanging loosely in one hand and the knuckles of the other pressed against her teeth. With the only light source being the window behind her, he can't tell what's on her face.

A second debating whether she wants to be left alone is all Kakashi needs before he props himself up on his elbow. "It's the middle of the night," he observes, his voice roughened by sleep. If she told him to go back to bed he probably would, but she doesn't. Merely turns her head a degree or two in his direction. "You good?" he asks when it's clear she has no intention to speak. The breath she takes is audible even at a distance, and enough of an answer. She looks away as Kakashi swings his bare feet onto the cold floor. Although the days are still summer warm the nights are not, and he wraps the blanket around himself before padding across the room to her.

When he settles on the other half of the window seat, his back against the wall, Hermione still hasn't spoken. The space is short enough that their knees are almost touching. He watches Hermione stare out the window, and remnants of tears glister on her cheeks in the moonlight. A reflexive wish to reach out travels through his body, to lay a hand against her cheek and swipe the tears away with a stroke of his thumb, but he curbs it. Places his hand on her ankle instead. They might be sharing a bed at night, might be physical in a lot of ways, but that kind of touch is too intimate. There's a line, somewhere, between romance and friendship and Kakashi isn't going to cross it.

"Talk to me," Kakashi says when the silence drags. It comes out a bit close to a plea, but he can't change that now. Who knew, a year ago, that he could find people suffering in silence worse than talking it out?

"You know that thing Luna said," Hermione begins after a few seconds. Her voice is thin. "About there being no point in confronting me since I wasn't thinking with my head?" Kakashi nods, unwilling to speak and break her off. "I think I mentioned it yesterday; me being all brain and no heart, and how that messed things up?" Another nod. "And then she goes and says that, and it's been sitting in the back of my mind, and I couldn't sleep, so I did some reading."

"Okay," Kakashi tells her, hoping to prod her to continue. Neither of them had had the energy of emotional resources to dig into any kind of details yesterday; it had been about the broad context. Maybe it shouldn't surprise him that things are resurfacing now, but the afternoon and evening had been good, and he'd honestly forgotten about the short tension at Luna's. Clearly a misjudgement on his part.

Yesterday, the remark about her being all brains and no heart had been a small detail. Or it has _seemed_ like a small detail; ludicrous in the way it's clearly not true, and surely Hermione must have known that? But she hadn't, and she doesn't, and Kakashi is lost for words to describe how inaccurate she is.

He listens as she talks, asks for clarifications a few times, but still can't figure it out. "Let me get this clear;" he finally sums up, meeting her eyes, "you've thought, right up until now, that you're all brain and no heart?" Hermione nods, mutely, and Kakashi can see she's biting her lip. "That's…" He takes a steadying breath, tries to collect his thoughts in a way that can be expressed. "If that was the case," he restarts, "I'd never be here, would I? Where was your self-gain in this?" Gesturing between them Kakashi feels like there's a hook buried deep inside him, pulling on his stomach. He knows that this would never be without Hermione; knows that she has must have given more than she has gained up to this point.

"Well," Hermione turns away to look out the window, "I did say I just realized I might have been wrong, didn't I?"

"Not _might_," Kakashi bumps his knee against hers. The breath she takes stutters, and Kakashi gets a flash of himself, what feels like a lifetime ago, up on a mountain, and the pain of realizing things could have been different. "I know it hurts," he tells her, doing his best to keep his voice calm, "but at least it was now, not twenty years down the line." It's a risk, answering something she hasn't said; that he's concluded based on nothing but an inhale and his own experience.

Hermione tries to say something, Kakashi thinks, but it gets swallowed by a muffled sob. The reading nook is far to narrow to share a side, but Kakashi decide it doesn't matter and thugs on her arm anyway. "Come here," he says. The resulting shuffle has them huffing out almost-laughs, easing Hermione's crying. They end up with Hermione sitting curled up sideways between Kakashi's legs and the window, his arm curled around her feet to keep them on the seat, and her knees, shoulder and head resting against his chest. It's not comfortable, honestly, but it works. Sort of.

No more sobs follow the first one, but Hermione sniffles. The material of the combined mask and shirt Kakashi wears is made to be wicking, meaning it transports the wetness under Hermione's face directly to his skin. A detached part of his mind wonders whether it's mostly tears or snot, and what is preferable. Tears would mean she's still crying, but snot is less hygienic. In the end he concludes it hardly matters; she feels bad either way, and he's washed far worse things out of his clothes.

Kakashi feels like he should say something, but he can't figure out what. He wraps his arms around her instead – as much as he can while keeping her feet on the seat – rests his chin against her head, and waits.

"You're right," Hermione says. How much later, Kakashi is unsure of. "But it's only half of it." It takes him a moment to catch on, distracted by the quality of her voice. Brittle, like night-fresh ice on the water troughs, breaking into a mess of sharp edges that tinkle as they float on the disturbed water surface. At the same time, both soft and heavy. Opposites, but Hermione has never adhered to what Kakashi's learnt is normal. Or possible. "It hurts, yes," Hermione continues, steadier now, "but I'm also," she pauses, draws a breath, "I'm fucking terrified Kakashi."

"Why?" he asks. It might not be the right thing to say, he doesn't mean to imply she shouldn't be, but he also can't understand where the fear is coming from. And he wants to understand, because otherwise there's zero chance he can help. She untangles her arms and sits up enough to look at him. The windowpanes must be cold against her back, even through the blanket.

"I had it thought out, or I believed I did. But if I had it all wrong, and the problem was the opposite, then what? I'll need to re-evaluate everything. Like, how do I avoid repeating my mistakes? If I could do this to myself when I believed in myself, what's to stop me now?" It's a jumbled mess, and Kakashi isn't sure he understands half of it, but something pops out. One thing is crystal clear from her last sentence alone.

"Like with me?" It's hardly even on subject, as far as Kakashi knows, only it is. It really is, and while he might wish he hadn't seen himself and Hermione in that light it can't be undone. Because he has done a lot of things that hurt her, especially in the beginning. Far more than he was able to understand at the time. Every silence from him, every time he freaked out, what shouldn't that have triggered in someone with her history?

"That was different," Hermione says, "you were sick." She's not meeting his eyes as she speaks, and Kakashi finds it hurts worse than being stabbed.

"An explanation," he says, his mouth dry. "not an excuse." Why did he bring this up? Is he really that masochistic?

"Trust me," Hermione says, grabbing his upper arm, "this is nothing like that. It's _different_." Her fingers dig into his muscle, and it's grounding, allowing him to think.

"It might not have been," he admits, closing his eyes to avoid hers. Hermione has a big heart, it was always obvious to him, and he'd been hurting more than he'd had the frame of refence to understand. In that, he hurt her too, and who knows where it might have ended. The thought sits like a stone in his throat, constricting his airflow. Only, "you put your foot down."

Opening his eyes, Kakashi catches the way her face twitches in thought at the comment. Watches the softening around her mouth before the corners lifts marginally. "I did, didn't I?" The question is rhetorical, but Kakashi answers anyway.

"You did," he says. It doesn't ease the revelation of what he's done to her, but it's a pinprick of light in the darkness. It is hope for everything that came after, for the here and now. "Quite forcefully too, I recall," he forces out a small smile that might not be discernible under the mask. It's magnified on Hermione's face, and the way she relaxes is written in every line in her body.

"I did," she repeats. "I didn't slide thoughtlessly down my old tracks, I put my foot down. I _know_ how to put my foot down."

"You do." For her, it seems to be an epiphany. As if she'd forgotten it happened. Which, actually, it _was_ a long time ago, Kakashi himself had sort of forgotten about it until this minute. He tries to seep up some of the shaky optimism it's given Hermione but finds himself falling short.

This isn't supposed to be about him, too much has already been about him, but he can't help but tell her what's at the forefront of his mind. "I'm sorry."

The energy around Hermione dims, zooms in on Kakashi and twists his stomach into a knot. "Don't be," she tells him, running her fingers over his knuckles. "You listened, and did better. That's what matters in the end." He turns his hand over and grabs hers, unable to take that kind of gentleness.

"It still feels like I've gotten far more than I've given." Kakashi's voice comes out close to a whisper, his sandpaper throat making speech painful. The guilt isn't helping either.

"Well," Hermione says, "haven't we just established I _am_ capable of integrity?" she taps her thumb against his wrist. "Not to mention I find that to be total bullshit. You were right by my side for the whole fire-thing, you've suffered a bunch of my worst PMS days, you keep reminding me not to sell myself short, and not a second ago I cried all over you. Again." Kakashi opens his mouth to protest, or something, but she continues before he can. "Besides, it's not about always being perfectly balanced, it's about taking turns being the strong one and letting time even it out."

Kakashi lets it sink in. She does know how to make a point; he'll give her that. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's convinced she's right.

"I can't promise not to hurt you again," he says instead of arguing. "I wouldn't do it on purpose, but on accident? I've got a history with that." If she asked now, Kakashi's not sure he could avoid answering, but she doesn't. He's grateful for that, preferring to keep some boxes as tightly locked up and out of mind as he can. Not that he's been overly successful in that area.

Hermione's face breaking into a smile comes as a surprise. "Good," she says, meeting his eyes full on, "because I've had enough of sappy, unrealistic promises for a lifetime." Her face softens, turns thoughtful, and Kakashi can hear her fiddling with her thumbnail under the blanket. "Can you at least promise to try and let me know if I hurt you?" she asks. "And I'll do the same in return?"

Nodding might not be considered a proper answer, so Kakashi grasps for his voice. "Sounds fair," he says. He hasn't quite reached the point where he smiles naturally, but what was a pinprick of hope has grown considerably. Maybe, just maybe, it could possibly turn out alright. If he's lucky.

"Good," Hermione says. "Now, can we go to bed? My back is killing me."

To agree is easy, even if Kakashi knows it'll be awhile before he'll fall asleep. The blanket he brought with him to the window seat is warm, but the mattress has cooled in their absence. Hermione ushers him in first then rolls herself right up into his side, her head partly pillowed on his shoulder. An arm wraps tightly around Kakashi's ribcage.

"You good?" Hermione asks quietly, a countless number of breaths later. The conversation is coming full circle it seems.

Kakashi thinks for a few seconds before answering, but it doesn't change much. "I don't know," he says, facing the ceiling. "but I'll get there. You?"

"I'm anxious," Hermione tells him, "and still sad. My shoulders hurt, and I have way too much on my mind, trying to figure this mess out. Being still and quiet isn't the best for me right now, but I'm also very tired, so…" she trails off.

"Can I do something?" Kakashi asks, turning his head to watch her hair spill out on the pillow.

"Not really," Hermione says, "you already did plenty though."

Silence falls between them, but it's vibrating slightly, not as restful as it should be. "What aren't you saying?" Kakashi gives in and asks.

"Nothing." He was wrong then, only, "I was just thinking…" Hermione continues, then breaks off. "But it's okay, it's nothing."

"I'm raising my eyebrow at you," Kakashi tells her. Not that he is, but she won't be able to tell.

Hermione sighs, and it seems like the end of the conversation. "My arms getting numb," she says eventually, a hesitant tone in her voice that Kakashi can't make sense of. "And I don't want to move, but I can't stay like this either, and I was thinking…" she falls silent again. Kakashi can feel her turn her face further into his shoulder. The arm around him moves and a hand is splayed over his chest. "Would it be alright if I laid here?" Hermione half whispers, the words nearly inaudible but finding a bit more strength as she continues. "I mean I get if you'd find it weird, it probably is, so I won't take offence, but that's what I was thinking." She cuts of abruptly, and Kakashi can't shake the picture of her biting her tongue.

It can be as weird as it wants, by regular standards; it's not like he can deny her anything asked like that. Instead of answering Kakashi uses the arm she's nestled under and pushes her up. Meets up with his other arm as she rests her head over his heart, embracing her. If the breath she lets out is a little shaky? he's fine with ignoring that. Especially since he can feel tension bleeding out of the muscles under his hands.

What they have is complicated sometimes. Guided by a set of indiscernible lines for where it crosses from what they can tell themselves are okay for friends, and what they can't. Like the difference of having Hermione stretched out along Kakashi's side, and having her on top of him. Not that full body hugs are unusual, not that sleeping next to each other are, but the added pressure of gravity and the sheer bonelessness gives it a new dimension. Kakashi can see how people would consider this across the line, but he can't make himself care. Not when he can feel his body settle into the sense of weight, making him relax. From a purely selfish perspective, he appreciates that Hermione has some kind of history that stops her from wanting more out of him. It lets him have this, just like it is, in a way he never could if things were different.

Hermione's crying again, Kakashi recognizes. It's a silent thing, nothing but small trembles and a wetness on his chest, and he doesn't bring it up. Holds on instead, hands stationary despite a desire to soothe and ease. It would fall on the wrong side of one of the clearer lines; the one that touching is okay only as long as it is unmoving (and stays away from certain areas, but that hardly needs saying). He doesn't want to risk being misunderstood after all.

.oOo.

A week. Seven days, and this will be gone. Hermione will miss it terribly. Will miss _Kakashi_ terribly, but she knows she'll make it. They both will.

She pushes that thought away. Allows herself to float on his steady breathing and slow pulse. The grief and fear are still there, ravaging her insides, but it's manageable like this, slowly getting coated by a layer of deep calm.

A small, greedy corner of Hermione's brain suggests it would be even nicer with careful fingers painting patterns across her back, but it's relatively easy to ignore. It would be too much, she knows, bound to snap rules that are currently bent to their breaking point. She doesn't want a romantic relationship of any kind, with Kakashi or otherwise. Not now. Maybe not ever. It's just too bad it'll mean certain sacrifices. Not that this isn't more than she ever hoped to have again.

She's falling asleep as she hears Kakashi's low voice, remembering to wish her a happy birthday. The thanks and good night she tries to say in return comes out a bit of a mumble, but she thinks he understands.


	32. Chapter 32

**AN:** These are crazy times we live in. Fact is, I haven't had the energy to write much for about two weeks. Between work and the chaos of the pandemic and the general stress of that, I'm worn down all the way to the ground. Covid-19 is really a collective trauma, because not only do we have the virus and the economy to worry about, but also the complete loss of direction. I mean, what now? It is life coming to a complete stop in some ways, yet needing to continue in others; and while there's a normal world outside when you're going through personal difficulties, something for measuring against and getting back to, there's no such thing at the moment.

The thing is, I miss the days when this story was set close to real time. I could really use Hermione to vent about all of this. The current crisis and political situation also makes it impossible for me to connect to the world back in September, meaning this story might come off as floating a bit when it comes to time for a while. I'm getting off track, so: Anyway, I miss the days when I could vent through Hermione. Meaning you'll have to live with me publishing a ridiculously long author's note for this chapter since I'll use this as my outlet instead.

I'm scared. Honestly, nerve-wreckingly terrified. Not of the virus, or the disease; it'll get me, or it won't – statistics speaking for the latter – and there's nothing I can do about it except distancing myself. Which I do. I'm not panicking over the economy, because I'm lucky enough to work in a place where we're needed no matter what happens. That's selfish, I know; I have friends in much worse places, but we're Swedes. We have social security systems that, while not perfect, will keep people from starvation. And as long as there is a functional healthcare system and hospitals (I'm a little bit worried about that, actually, but we've kept things manageable this far, and hopefully people won't stop being responsible now), we need neither jobs nor money to get help if we get sick or injured.

What happens to people who lose their income in other countries does give me some concern, obviously, but it's not what has my stomach knit together and my shoulders to tense to the point of constant pain. That'd be the politics of it all.

I'm sitting here, in front of my computer, watching country after country sell out their democratic freedoms for a (mostly false) sense of security. I read about democracies turning into full blown dictatorships, with the excuse of fighting Corona but with no expiration date. About right-wing governments taking the opportunity of locked up citizens to strip away things like women's rights to their own bodies and as such abortion. About political institutions taking the right to dictate what theatres can play, making sure it suits their agendas. About country leaders (several of them) with personal interest in companies and the economical markets, denying the reality of the situation so they don't lose part of their wealth. While people are dying.

Worst of all, I watch how disinformation is spread by politicians (yes Trump, always, but others as well). How blame is put everywhere but on themselves when they fail to act on time. How others are always painted out as villains of the story. How countries close up and stops listening to reason, or science, or any kind of sense. How everyone is suddenly an expert to the point that the words of actual experts are drowned in the flood of craziness.

Seriously: To have read up on something is not the same as being knowledgeable. Just because something looks scientific, it doesn't necessarily have the value of well done, reviewed and repeated studies (and one single study showing something is never, ever proof of anything). And no matter how well-versed a scientist is in one field; they shouldn't be getting more attention than a regular person when moving outside of that field. You can know _everything there is to know_ about micro-biology, it still doesn't make you an expert on curing viruses.

That we have leaders spouting these bullshit made-up facts as if they are true, and that people are willing to take their words and risk their health and sell their freedom for it; that's what scares me. Attacks on the free press. Ice cold lies to save face. The fact that populism is growing and that they do this by viciously attacking traditional democratic principle and the value of unbiased information.

Power-hungry, right-wing-populistic leaders and organizations that are creating hate and mistrust and insecurity for their own gain just got a better weapon than they could ever imagine. And that's what's keeping me up at night.

With that, I'll let you move on to the story.

* * *

It feels like a genjutsu. It can't be, for lots of reason, last but not least the fact that Kakashi checked. Twice, if he's being honest about it.

So, it might feel like a genjutsu, but it isn't. It's only surreal to the point where it _should_ be. Because, seriously? How did he end up here; crowded into a corner and surrounded by the entire Granger family. There'd been singing announcing Hermione's parent's approach, followed by the unexpected invasion of not only the room but the actual _bed_ – that's clearly not made with four people in mind, thank you very much.

Maybe, Kakashi should have asked for details about the whole breakfast in bed thing, because whatever he expected it wasn't this. Do normal families even do these things, or is the Granger's unusually intimidating?

If he wasn't surrounded, Kakashi'd make some excuse to get out. Like needing to go to the bathroom. But for that to happen now, Hermione would have to move, and she's clearly happy and content in all this madness. The alternative, having Jean move from where she's leaning against the wall below Kakashi's feet, isn't tempting either.

Kakashi gets a sandwich and some tea of his own, and weird doesn't even begin to cover it.

.oOo.

It's both entertaining and eye-opening, watching Kakashi dodge questions like they are kunai flying at him. He used to do that with her, Hermione remembers, answering yet avoiding giving much information at all. If any. She'd almost forgotten what it was like, after everything that happened. There was a time when she'd thought of him only like this, easy-going and laid-back, with unflappable composure and a penchant for dry humour. Now, it makes her pick at the hem of her shirt even as she laughs, wondering about the ease with which he slips this mask on, metaphoric as it is, and how much it has in common with the physical one he's always hiding behind.

"In the army," Ginny throws back at him, smiling as she flicks her hair back over her shoulder, "that's like me saying I'm working with sports, or for Harry to say he's at the ministry. We told you about our jobs, you at least owe us a position, not just an employer." Kakashi raises a trademark eyebrow at her.

"Is it one of those; if you tell us you'll have to kill us-situations?" Harry asks, sprawled out in the kitchen chair with one foot on the edge of Ginny's seat. "Are you like a secret agent or something?"

"No need to worry," Kakashi says, voice close to serene and his eyes folded into a smile that Hermione can guess is far sharper under his mask, "actual wetwork is years behind me." It's said as a joke, taken as one too given the way Harry and Ginny reacts, and Hermione laughs as well but more at the absurdity of it all. Because that? That was the most honest answer Kakashi's given so far, but also the one least likely to be taken as such.

"I don't think the ranks translate," Hermione tells her friends. "I've tried and failed to make sense of it compared to our system, but it's called jōnin." She reaches out to snag the last biscuit, but is beaten by Ginny's seeker reflexes. "Oi," Hermione calls out, "that was mine."

"Because it's your birthday," Ginny says, "you can have half."

She breaks the cookie in half and holds the smaller one out to Hermione. Luckily, the table aren't very big, and Hermione reaches across it to take the other piece. "You split," she tells her friend, "I get to pick first. I thought you was the one who grew up with siblings."

"Have you ever seen her share anything with her brothers?" Harry asks, using the distraction to try to nick a piece of Ginny's cookie, chocolate crumbs falling to the table as she fends him off. Before more of it is lost Ginny stuffs the whole thing in her mouth.

"I'm great at sharing," she says, jumbled around the chewing, "just not with thieves." She throws Harry a dirty look.

"That's it," Harry answers, throwing his hands up, "I'm cancelling the wedding." His smile contradicts his words, and Hermione feels a softness settling inside her.

When Harry sent a message this morning, wondering if they could come over after lunch, Hermione had tried to give him a way out. She didn't want them to feel obliged, not with their wedding in only two days, but she'd been waved away. And it's great that they're here, it really is, she loves them to bits, but even this many years later it's still a little bit strange. Ron had always been a part of them, is still a part of _them_, just not of her, and it's weird. Like their whole relationship is a little skewed, having lost one of the legs it was standing on. They all used to be Weasleys, whether married into the family or not, and now she's on the outside. Hermione has a feeling Harry and Ginny both would be horrified if she even suggested such a thing, so she doesn't. It's easier like this, however; with Kakashi around to throw every pre-conceived notion of how they're supposed to be up in the air, not to mention standing out enough that the details of things matter less somehow.

"So," Ginny ignores her future husband and turns to Hermione, "you do presents in the morning, right? Got anything fun?"

"A bathrobe and a camera from my parents," Hermione answers, "and knives from Kakashi."

Next to Hermione a dull thump reverberates from where Kakashi hits his forehead against the table. Without straightening he rolls his head over until his chin is against the wood and he can look at Hermione. "Knives?" he says. "I'm taking them back."

Hermione thugs at a strand of grey hair, not ungently, but enough to sting. It's softer than it looks. "Don't be a snob," she tells him, keeping her face straight and her voice free from laughter. "You can't expect people to know what kunai and shuriken are."

"Throwing knives?" Harry asks, then pauses a second as three pair of eyes are turned towards him. "What? Dudley had a ninja-period when we were about eight."

"Look at that," Kakashi has picked his head up and folds his eyes into a smile, "I'm in the company of at least one semi-intelligent creature." Hermione opens her mouth to respond, but he must catch it in the corner of his eye because Kakashi turns back to her. "It's not you," he says.

"Of course it isn't," Hermione agrees lightly, "I'm far smarter than semi-intelligent."

Before Kakashi can turn his disagreeing noise into actual words Ginny cuts in. "Can we try them?" Hermione looks over to see a glint in her eyes, much like the one she gets a second before pulling of a menacing prank on one of her brothers. With a glance in his direction she passes the question on to Kakashi.

"I don't see why not," he shrugs. "Kunai though. Two sharp edges are already at least one more than you should be trusted with."

"Fair," Harry agrees quickly, even if it's clear he wants to try almost as much as his fiancée. "No hospital visits the week of the wedding, please."

Creating targets is much easier when magic can be used. Especially since Harry's got a lot of experience with conjuring marks for auror training. Tweaking them to be stationary is no match at all, and once conjured in the living room the three boards is carried out into the garden. Kakashi disappears upstairs and comes back down with the small weapons pouch he gave Hermione as well as another set of kunai. Hermione has a feeling there's still a small arsenal stored in the guestroom, but she prefers not to ask. At least not in the current company.

Kakashi has implied that he sucked at being a sensei, if not in those exact words. Hermione thinks he might be right in so far he probably wasn't an ideal pick to guide three twelve-year-olds (of which two started out heavily traumatized) into the reality of shinobi life. He does know how to teach his trade, however. It's been obvious as he's been teaching, and it's even more obvious when she sees it from the outside applied on her friends.

There's a confidence in Kakashi, when it comes to things relating to his work. An easiness that seems to let him breathe more fully and relax into himself in a way that starkly contrasts how he holds himself around other topics. It's not obvious any longer, when it's only the two of them, but like this it's clear as day. To Hermione at least, she doubts the others notice a thing. She sure didn't, way back when they met.

.oOo.

Ginny and Harry are not horrible at throwing kunai. They're both athletic, with enough body awareness and control to pick up the basics and learn how to get the kunai to pierce the board. What they don't have is patience, and hours of practice, and Kakashi is certain it irks them just a little bit to see Hermione miles ahead of them in anything physical. It's rather entertaining actually, as an outsider, to watch them oscillate between pride after a good hit, poorly hidden frustration after a series of bad ones, and admiration in the face of Hermione's hard-gained accuracy.

"Seriously 'Mione," Harry says as they're moving to pick up their kunai, "how much have you practiced? You're great at this."

Hermione laughs, warm and inviting, and passes Harry one of the kunai he messed up throwing. Bouncing off the wooden privacy wall at the back of the garden, it had fallen to the ground far closer to Hermione's target than Harry's. "Not as much as some," she says, shooting a glance at Kakashi, "but probably more than is sane." Harry's compliment, Kakashi notices, is allowed to slide right by.

The relaxed atmosphere has sunk into Kakashi to the point where he almost responds automatically. Where he _almost_ turns Hermione's comment into a joke about how it's the perfect blend of compliment and insult. But it's easy to be fine in the light of a sunny day and with friends around, at least superficially. Kakashi knows though, that it's harder in the evenings when the day grinds to a halt and you're forced to exist in the silence. He also knows that what he says here will still be said when that time comes. "Maa," he answers instead, "it is clearly more fun than crocheting."

"Are you holding out on us Kakashi?" Ginny narrows her eyes as she turns to him, the first one back to the throwing line. She and Harry only got three kunai each but she's still managing to hold them awkwardly enough that two edges grates against each other. Kakashi's starting to learn there's always a lot of unnecessary sharpening to do after letting beginners handle his weapons.

"I seem to recall you asking to try," he tells her, studiously ignoring the mishandling of his kunai, "was there something else you wanted?" Kakashi blinks slowly and gives her an innocent smile. He hadn't needed to show them more than the slow, broken down, version of throwing. Had never let the kunai fly, because Hermione had been around for the rest. As fun as it can be to watch people react to his skills, it had been more entertaining to see them react to hers. Especially with her target set twice the distance from the throwing line compared to her friends.

"Nice try," Harry says as he and Hermione joins them, "but it's not working." There's a gentleness to him, Kakashi has noticed, compensating for his fiery soon-to-be wife. Yet only a fool would confuse that gentleness with insecurity or lack of strength; Kakashi knows enough of this man's past and presence to recognize it as the hard-gained confidence it is.

A glance over to Hermione is all it takes for her smile to take on a sharp edge, and Kakashi can guess the words out of her mouth before she speaks them. "I think," she says with a shrug, "that it'd only be fair for them to practice under the same premises I do."

Harry and Ginny both looks between them, but Kakashi keeps his eyes on Hermione. "Could be tricky with the three of you," he tells her, trusting her to know he's usually allows just a slip of chakra to speed up his hands. Not a lot, invisible unless you're up close, but impossible with Harry and Ginny around.

"And that surely is enough to stop you from trying," Hermione answers, her tone a mirror of the dry one Kakashi himself uses.

"Maa," Kakashi tells her, "you know me so well."

"Are they?" Ginny cuts in, sharing a look with Harry. The response comes before she's finished the question.

"Cutting us out? Yep." Harry swiftly ducks out of the way as Hermione swipes at him with her kunai-free hand. If Kakashi knew these people any better _he'd_ hit them, but he doesn't. Watches instead as Hermione sticks her tongue out and Ginny giggles.

"Just for that," Hermione informs them, chin high and eyes narrow, "you don't get to know at all. Now back to the line you dimwits."

Discreetly palming a few shuriken Kakashi takes his regular place at the opposite end from Hermione. Going completely without chakra he'll have a harder time to catch up with her kunai, not to mention gain the speed needed for accuracy across the distance, but it doesn't matter. He'll have plenty of work with the way the other two keep missing.

Ginny's second throw is clearly going to fail. She lets her elbow too far out, keeps her shoulder too tense, and Kakashi lets a shuriken fly past his fingertips to hunt the kunai down. There's a second of silence as the weapons clatter to the grass, two pair of wide eyes spinning around towards him, and Hermione's laughter before she sends another of her kunai flying. "Told you he's put an insane amount of time into this, didn't I?" she says.

Folding his eyes into a visible smile, Kakashi waves at Harry and Ginny. "Don't mind me," he tells them sweetly, knowing full well that it's a look Naruto claims causes nightmares. "I'll just do my thing over here, nothing to worry your little brains about."

When they quit fifteen minutes later Kakashi's knocked down eight bad throws out of nine. It's an alright result for not using chakra, but embarrassing compared to what he can do at full speed. Still, it's fun, and good practice, so he can survive the imperfect record.

.oOo.

"Do you miss it?" Hermione asks Kakashi later, in the downtime between Ginny and Harry leaving and her parents coming home.

"Do I miss what?" he questions, watching her over the edge of a book. His book, that she gave her, and he's not certain he likes it but he's only six pages in. Time will tell.

"Not holding back." They're out in the garden, Hermione leaned back in a chair with her face towards the sun, but she shadows her eyes with a hand now, looking at him.

"Yes." Kakashi doesn't need time to think, has been itching to finally _move_ again for along time now, but he still drags it out. Just a little. Leaving a finger between the pages to keep his place, Kakashi closes the book. "And I miss my friends," he admits, "but I…" he leaves the sentence hanging. Has no idea how he meant to end it.

In a way, he's grateful that there's no choice. This here ends, normalcy reinstates itself, and it is not his decision. He's not sure how he'd handle if it was.

"I could come visit." Hermione's voice is tentative, her eyes hidden in the shadow of her hand. "Not right away, obviously, and I'd know you'd be working but…" Kakashi closes his eyes. Breathes slowly. Want and terror twisting in his stomach. She's a civilian, and he'd be Hokage by then, and it's risky. It could paint a target on her back the size of the Hokage mountain, but also; few shinobi see past the indignity of going after those who cannot defend themselves. Not none, though, never none.

"The Elemental Nations are unstable," Kakashi finally says. "I'd never ask you to."

"You're not asking me, I'm asking you. And obviously you'd have to get home first, and see how things are, and I wouldn't have to stay for long, since you'll have things to do, and," Hermione forces air down her lungs, "and I'm rambling." She deflates, draws a foot up on the seat of her chair and props her elbow on her knee.

"Listen," Hermione continues when Kakashi fails to answer, "you're important to me, I…" The hand used to shadow her eyes comes up to twist in her hair, leaving her head hanging in the grip. "Well," she says instead of continuing, "I _can't_ say I don't know what I'd do without you, because I'd miss you like hell, but I'd manage, okay?" There's an urgency in her stare as she pauses, making Kakashi nod before she pushes on. "So, it's not like it's a necessity, but I'd _like_ to come. And you don't have to say yes yet, but maybe you don't have to say no either? Because I can't say goodbye in a week like it's forever. You're my closest friend, more than that, only not," Hermione makes an inarticulate sound, "whatever," she says, "you know what I mean, and it sucks that we live on opposite sides of the earth, but…"

Kakashi is beginning to recognize the signs of her going on forever if he lets her, and her parents are due home any minute now. It's easier then, to lean over and place a palm over her mouth. "You need to give me a chance to get a word in if you want me to answer," he tells her, tone kept dry and joking. He smiles to show he means it only like that.

"Sorry." Hermione's excuse starts out mumbled behind the hand before Kakashi removes it. Silence falls, and Kakashi allows himself a few seconds to gather his thoughts.

"Me too," he ends up admitting, the words emptying his lungs. The answer isn't exactly grammatically correct, possibly not even understandable, but it's all he's got.

"Yeah?" Hermione's mouth is in a delicate balance between sad and smiling, her voice careful.

"Yeah."

The word feels graver than it's literal meaning. Like Kakashi just agreed to something far bigger than a possible visit, and maybe he did. Emotions – having them, understanding them, talking about them – will never be his strong suit, no matter how much time he spends with Hermione. And this _thing_, between them, is something Kakashi's sure he couldn't come close to describing, even with weeks of preparation. It's too delicate, falls too far outside the norms for how it's supposed to be, and every word he can think of is either too small in comparison or too big to consider. But yeah, he doesn't want to lose her, so of course he'll let her visit. If it's somewhat safe.

"After new-years," Kakashi says, grasping for the practicalities. "When you're done with your job and I've had time to catch up with the paperwork Tsunade will undoubtedly drop in my lap."

"Sounds good." Hermione's smile has won, any melancholia pushed back for now. "I mean, I've shown you magic. It's only fair you get a chance to show me jutsus and stuff."

Kakashi thinks of Konoha, with its shinobi as likely to run over the rooftops as to walk the streets, and his smile is more a few shades slyer than hers. "I imagine you'll get your share," he tells her. Watching Hermione experience Konoha sounds entertaining, leaving Kakashi with more than one reason for hoping it'll happen.

They barely have time to leave the subject before Jean comes home, and the discussion turns to other things.

* * *

**AN**: This didn't turn out at all how I imagined, but whatever. It was meant to be about celebrating Hermione's birthday with her family, but ended up about other things. Well, that's how it is sometimes. Either way, where through Thursday, only one day to the wedding! I'm so looking forward to Kakashi meeting everybody. Especially Ron.

As usual: I love you, your support means the world to me. I might have sucked at responding to comments lately, choosing to write with what energy I have, but know that I treasure them dearly, reading every single one more than once. It never fails to pick me up when I need it. Stay safe out there!

PS: I have a feeling that quite a few things, especially in these chapters that are taking place in England, are heavily inspired by things you've written in reviews. I haven't put the time into going back to check, but please, if you recognize an idea that was yours. Let me know. I want to give credit where credit is due.


	33. Chapter 33

**AN:** So, apparently my last AN created a huge vacuum around the whole chapter. For those of you still out there, this is what became the chapter covering the time before the wedding. It's short, and not what I had planned, but these things happen.

Love you all!

* * *

Kakashi wakes to the feeling of Hermione's ribcage wrapped around his arm and the spattered taste of blood on his lips. She's right next to him, passed out in deep sleep and close enough to touch but he can't do so. Finds her too still. Lifeless.

Bile rising in his throat forces Kakashi into motion, and he slides from the bed and beelines for the bathroom. Not quite a shunshin, not with Hermione's parents around, but as close as he can make it and still pretend otherwise. (As he flings open the toilet lid, it's in the back of his head; the ingrained adherence to orders and the way he only breaks them for others, not himself. Never himself.) The acidic taste doesn't rise any further, however, leaving him hanging over the bowl with nothing to show for it. It might have helped, might have covered the phantom smell of blood with the sharp tang of vomit, but it's clearly not to be. A few forced calm breaths push the nausea down from his throat into his stomach, and Kakashi settles on the floor. The beige tiled wall is cold against his back and shoulders. He leans into it. Focuses his attention on the biting sensation before it fades.

It doesn't wash the remining traces of the dream away, but it still helps, a little. Reminds him how and where to tense up, reign in, and hold on. The fluorescent lighting against hard, blank surfaces helps too. He can stay here for a little while.

Keep it down. Keep it back. Don't lose control. _Push it down_. He might have learnt, these months with Hermione, to deal with some things more head on, but not now. Not this. If he gives himself any leeway to actually feel right now, he's not getting up again. For which this is neither the place nor time. He's a ninja though, he knows how to do this. Evasion tactics are his thing.

Even after Haku's death ripped Kakashi's scars wide open the dreams hadn't been this detailed. He chooses not to think about what brought it out now. Not that he can't guess, but he doesn't need that, he needs distraction. At least until his pulse has settled back to normal and he feels less shaky. Like whether there are any spells that can change direction mid-air? Or pass through solid objects? He knows they generally don't, but is there any exceptions to the rule? Because if you can apparate into a locked room, why can't you send curses into one? Or an explosive tag?

The single-minded determination needed to keep even vaguely to the subject means Kakashi misses the movements in the hallway. Or at least that his subconscious, deeming them non-threatening, finds them unworthy of attention. He's lost time; knows only that his back and the tiles are now the same temperature, and that his body is aching. Not so much from the hard surfaces as from the way he holds himself. It's not until someone grabs the doorknob that Kakashi realizes he might not have locked the door. Which is a bit late to rectify at that moment, he just about has time to grab his mask and pull it up over his face.

"Oh. Sorry." Richard blinks against the light. "I'll, uh, go downstairs." Halfway through closing the door he pauses, eye's sharpening. It's a look Kakashi knows well. Hermione might have gotten her curiosity and directness from her mother, but her analytical side clearly comes from the man standing in the doorway now, pulling his bathrobe tighter around himself. "You okay?" he says.

"Fantastic." Sarcasm, Kakashi realizes, might not be the correct response in this situation. Yet right now, it's all he's got.

"I can see that," Richard says, his lips twitching upwards in a small smile. "Do you need anything?"

Kakashi shakes his head before he can say something stupid. Like a time machine, or a selective memory wipe, or hard drugs. "I'm fine," he follows up with. It's hardly even a lie, he's been in worse places than this, it'll blow over soon enough.

Maybe, it would be logical to back up his statement with going back to bed, but Kakashi can't make himself. Knows there's a risk Hermione will wake up, and if she does, she will be able to tell that something's off. She'll call him out on it, and Kakashi will fall apart. He'll rip wide open; have every carefully glued crack come apart, and he doesn't have the energy for that. Not now, maybe not ever. He survived Rin's death when it happened, he survived having it triggered by Haku, and he's close to having survived the hurricane of guilt and shame and horror that was caused by Obito's reappearance. This is simply a temporary setback. It will be _fine_. Eventually.

"Something you ate?" Richard asks, something in his voice that Kakashi doesn't have the presence to discern. Concern possibly.

"Don't think so," Kakashi manages.

"That's good at least," Richard tells him.

Inside of Kakashi a voice rages that it's _not_ _good_. That food poisoning is vastly preferable to dreaming of the man's daughter dead by Kakashi's hand, falling backwards with a gaping hole in her chest and Kakashi's name spilling over her lips. Like the only one who's ever claimed to love Kakashi; and it doesn't matter that he never loved Rin back, not in the way Obito did. She was his friend, and he killed her. Was too preoccupied to see what she was planning and stop her. Or himself. He doesn't intend for anything like that to ever happen again, but knows well enough by now that's not a promise he can make. The closer to him people get, the greater the risk they'll die. Because of him, most likely, and Kakashi can't take it. Can't lose her. Can't…

"I could go get Hermione?" The words tear Kakashi out of his mind.

"No," it comes out harsher than Kakashi intended, but when he looks over Richard isn't obviously offended. Thoughtful maybe, given the crease between his eyebrows. Or still blinded by the starkness of the bathroom lights in the middle of the night, Kakashi has no clue really.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind," Richard says. Careful, like Kakashi is a either a skittish animal or potentially dangerous. He doesn't know which is worse.

Drawing in a breath and releasing it slowly, Kakashi forces his voice to steady. "She wouldn't," he agrees.

"Then why?" Richard makes a move as though entering the bathroom before stopping himself. "It's not like she'd think less of you, or anything." It's added like an afterthought, and it's a perfect excuse not to answer the actual question.

"I know," Kakashi says. He wants to run, or rage, or something, but he can't. Feels his muscles tense to the point of shaking. Not that he'll _let_ them shake, he's got more control than that, but still. "I just _can't_," he presses when Richard doesn't leave. Kakashi's mind's spinning out of control again, and _why can't the man just leave_? Can't he see Kakashi's not in the mood for company? Just, okay; deep breath in. Slowly let it out. Again. Deep breath in. Slowly let it out.

It's not until Richard speaks that Kakashi realises he's shut him out as best as he can; by closing his eyes. "You might have to explain that one," the man says, careful again but stepping fully into the bathroom, "because I'm not convinced I should listen to you at the moment." He crouches down, awkwardly, just out of reach. Waits there as Kakashi breathes.

So much for avoiding the why of the whole thing. "Nightmare, okay?" Kakashi finally gets out, his eyes locked on the wall in front of him. His voice is sharp between clenched teeth but it's the best he can manage. "And if she comes in here now, she'll take one look at me, and she'll…" He draws a breath that he can hardly pretend is stable, and decides the sentence can remain unfinished. "I _can't_ take that," he says instead, "I'm going home in a week, this is not the time to…"

Again: Keep it together. Push it down. Hold it in. Breathe. You can do this. He'll be gone soon. Hopefully.

"Ah," Richards says, falling somewhere in between comprehending and faltering, "alright." Kakashi shoots him a quick glance and catches him shifting slightly. "I'm heading downstairs to the bathroom."

The words make Kakashi want to cry with relief, only he can't cry. Absolutely not. If he starts now there'll be no stopping, and no standing up, and there's a wedding to attend the day after tomorrow and a hidden village to run in a week. Besides, he's a shinobi. Pushing it down is better, he just needs a minute.

"You won't wake her?" Kakashi asks before Richard steps out of the room. The man stops and twists around, and Kakashi looks to the side before having to meet his eyes. He still catches the small shake of the other man's head.

He's supposed to say thank you, Kakashi knows, but he can't make himself. Inclines his head instead, and waits for Richard to leave. Once the door finally clicks shut Kakashi pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes until his whole world is a painful mix of blacks and oranges. Takes a measured breath. Another. Times's lost its meaning, but if pressed to guess he'd say about four in the morning. He hears the sound of the downstairs bathroom door, the toilet flushing, door again, and then Richard's heavy steps on the stairs. Once the master bedroom door closes Kakashi allows himself one shudder before he stands up. It's cold in here after all. Most of his things are still in the guestroom. If he goes running now, he could be back before Hermione wakes up.

* * *

**AN:** As always, I'm happy to hear your thoughts. With that said, we're moving on to the wedding. Yay! I don't know when I'll be able to publish, but I'm already working on it (wrote like two full paragraphs, so let's not get unrealistic about the timeframe). Love and hugs!


	34. Chapter 34

AN: The wedding is here! I've been waiting to write this chapter for the longest time, and now I finally got to. It took a while, but it did turn out on the longer side. I know some ideas in this has come from reviews (one scene in particular, and I love whoever came up with that), so please, if you see something and feel it's yours: Let me know and I'll make sure to give you the credit.

As usual I'm sending heaps of love to everyone who's with me this far. Old as well as new. I can't wait to hear your take on this, because getting to know what you think about different things is one of the better parts of writing. Long-distance hugs to all of you and stay as safe (and sane) as you can in these crazy, frightening times!

PS: There's a song mentioned in this chapter. If you haven't heard it, it should be no more than an entry into your search engine of choice away. It's not necessary for following what's going on, I don't think, but it could help.

* * *

Kakashi doesn't think he's ever shook hands with this many people in such a short amount of time. They're _everywhere_, and Hermione seems to know all of them, and even if he still had the sharingan Kakashi knows he'd fail to put names to all these faces. Mainly because around the tenth, he stops trying. Watches instead as Hermione greets them and gauges from her reactions who are the more important ones. Usually those are the names he's heard before, but not always. He does try to remember those faces.

To make it worse, no one has much problem remembering him. Having lived all his life in Konoha, first with a famous father and then with a reputation of his own, Kakashi's not used to being the unknown newcomer. These people are blatantly curios, watching the outsider at Hermione's side. It doesn't bother him, per se, he's been the talk of the town in worse ways, but it makes him self-conscious and itchy.

Something pink steps up to Kakashi's side. "Kakashi," Luna says, her painted lips matching the nuance of her dress, and shoes, and jewellery, "you have the best hair for these things. Normally, I can't find Hermione for ages." Kakashi can imagine why; with her hair in a complicated braid, make-up on her face, and wearing a dress, Hermione looks very little like Kakashi's used to seeing her. Not better or worse, simply different. She even holds herself straighter.

Reaching up to draw a hand over said hair, Kakashi can't help but smile. "Maa," he tells Luna, leaving Hermione to talk to whoever the brown-haired girl in front of her is. "It comes with the last name."

This time, when Luna steps in to hug him, Kakashi is at least prepared. She moves on to Hermione, and slightly less enthusiastically to the girl who's name Kakashi didn't bother remembering. Before Luna showed up, Kakashi and Hermione was part of a small minority wearing non-magical fashion. With Luna around, fitting in matters less somehow. She singlehandedly changes the scope of 'normal' to include far more people. It's a bit like standing next to Gai, whose spirited demeanours always made people less likely to notice Kakashi.

The crowd keeps shifting, but Luna sticks to his side. Kakashi has learnt to recognize the Weasley hair, as clear as any clan-mark, and watches them interact with Hermione. None are impolite, but they're not all warm either. Only one stays for more than a cursory greeting, and that's the one with a connection to Luna. Charlie, Kakashi thinks it was, the dragon-guy. The parade ends with George, carrying an easy grin and a toddler, passing Kakashi a shrunken package. "On the house," he says, "since your purchase was interrupted and all."

Finally, there's Ron, whom Kakashi notices well before he's introduced. Both him and Hermione have avoided each other for as long as they can at that point, and while Hermione's smile and tone is perfectly in place once they stand before each other everything else gives her away. The way the hug is nothing but hands on shoulders. Her eyes, not quite meeting Ron's as she introduces them. Kakashi knows how to play the game, shakes hands politely and pretends this is a friend like any other, but he knows the difference. Can feel Ron knows it too in the tightness of his grip, as if it's a competition.

.oOo.

Weddings, Hermione thinks, has a way of being amazing. Not only because the bride and groom are ridiculously cute, but also due to everyone else being keen to make it perfect for them. It's charades, some of it, like her and Ron pretending things are just fine, but that's the point. With everyone on their best behaviour it's easy to fake it 'til she makes it. Not to mention it is great to get a full evening surrounded by friends she spends too little time with. If some people are lukewarm in their response to her, that's alright. They can be ignored in favour of others Hermione rather hangs out with. Like Neville. Whoever seated them opposite each other deserves a reward.

"So," she asks him over the table, somewhere towards the end of dinner, "how's teaching?" It's his fourth year she thinks, and she'd always thought it suits him better than being an auror. A lot of them went that way after the war out of expectations, but Hermione's not sure anyone but Harry actually wanted it.

"Much better now that I'm allowed to live off grounds," Neville smiles, but Hermione knows that was a fierce battle between him and "tradition". No wonder the school has had problems recruiting. "The student are little pests, honestly, but I love it." There's no question that he does, with the way his voice comes to life and his eyes light up. The only other subject bringing it out this clearly has been Hanna, and the home they're building.

"Surely they can't be worse than us?" Hermione asks him, happy to keep that look on her friend's face.

"Oh, but that's the whole problem," Neville admits, his face reddening from laughter. Once, Hermione would have taken it as embarrassment, but she knows better now. "They're so bad at it; I mean, they can't sneak around after curfew for the life of them."

"You want your students to sneak around after curfew?" Kakashi asks by Hermione's side. His head is tilted to the side and he watches Neville.

"Well," Neville says, "they're going to do it, that's just how it is. But like this, it's so hard _not_ to catch them. If I honestly tried, I'd already be overseeing detentions every evening and weekend up until Christmas, and that's three weeks into the term. No way am I taking on that much overtime."

Hermione leans her forehead against her palm as they laugh, then scrunch up her face as she looks back up at Neville. "We were as bad, weren't we?" She can see it; her, Harry and Ron, crammed under the invisibility cloak but shuffling and whispering in the echoing hallways. "Maybe not in the later years, since you know," she refrains from finishing the sentence. "But when we were kids?"

"Oh yes," Neville nods, his eyes humorously wide and his tone grave, "I work with some of our old teachers, you know. I get to hear things." Around them, everyone their age who went to Hogwarts turns to watch the conversation.

"Come on Longbottom," a girl from Ginny's team (Tracy, maybe?) calls out, "don't leave us hanging."

Neville only shakes his head, miming zipping his mouth closed. He's saved by Lee taking the stage, only to hand the mic over to his toastmaster colleague.

"Harry," George says, the room slowly quieting around them. "I don't know if you've noticed, but Ginny has a few brothers." Hermione can practically feel the anticipation rising in the room, grins forming and cutlery being put down. "Now, I've been told it would look bad if I threatened you on your own wedding," he throws a glare Angelina's way, "so I figured I'll sing a song instead."

This, Hermione thinks, could either be one of the best things about this day, or one of the worst. It's unlikely to fall anywhere in between. The Weasley brothers doesn't have the greatest track-record when it comes to avoiding sexist clichés such as threatening their sister's boyfriend. That they've used a joking tone while doing so doesn't take away the fact it's both demeaning and an insult to Ginny's judgement. Since no one ever threatened Hermione not to hurt Ron, it's clearly not about the Weasleys standing up for their siblings; it's the Weasley brothers thinking their sister needs special treatment. Or at least they did, years ago. Hopefully they've grown up since.

Tapping his wand against the microphone George lets a beat fill the room, accompanied by a piano. He makes a few silly dance moves, turns to Harry, and smiles. "If she didn't have you," he sings, "someone else would do." [AN: 'If I didn't have you' by Tim Minchin]

Across the room people sputter. From their various seats the Weasley brothers stand, filling in as choir. "Your love is one in a million," George sings, "you couldn't buy it at any price. But out of the nine-point-nine-nine-nine-hundred-thousand other possible loves, statistically some of them would be equally nice."

On Harry's right side, Molly is throwing her son a warning look which he ignores with a lifetime of practice. On Harry's left, Ginny is laughing, trying and failing to hide it behind her napkin. In between them Harry looks a little wide-eyed, his eyes jumping between George and Ginny. Hermione knows him well enough to catch the exact moment the meaning of the song sinks in; the twitch of his eyes, the way his lips are pushed together to avoid smiling, the tooth rotting glance he shares with Ginny.

As George and the Weasley choir finishes, allowing the final, "someone else would surely do," to drag out, most people are laughing. George bows to the applause, and Hermione turns back to her table. Her grin is big enough that it's straining her cheeks.

"I didn't think I'd ever say this," she tells anyone and everyone, "but George Weasley just gave me a new favourite love song."

"Did you have an _old_ favourite love song?" Kakashi questions, but it's drowned by Gabrielle.

"It was kind of rude though," she says, "wasn't it?"

Hermione turns to her, diagonally across the table, and reminds herself Gabrielle is not only younger, her native language is also French. "I don't think so," Hermione says, "I mean, it had its moments, but mostly it was about how great love is something you choose. That the notion of a single person being the only one for you is, well, statistically unlikely, meaning there's no obligation to stay."

The frown Gabrielle's sporting hasn't eased but before Hermione can think of something else to add Neville leans forward, an elbow resting against the table as he twists to be able to see Gabrielle. "I think what Hermione's saying," he tells her, "is that love should be freely chosen. If you go into it with both eyes open, knowing the other isn't perfect, but deciding the good far outweighs the bad, that's a great foundation. There's a point in knowing your significant other will only stay as long as they feel that way, and trusting that love to last. Commitment is worth a whole lot more when it's a choice made every moment together, than if you think it's your duty as a soulmate."

"Oh my god," Gabrielle says, blinking, "that's really deep. And beautiful. Why didn't you say so straight away, Hermione?"

On her left, Kakashi is laughing. He might not make a sound, or any movement, but Hermione is certain; he's laughing. "Yes Hermione," he says, "why didn't you say so?" She gives him her best unimpressed glare.

"I didn't know you wanted in on the conversation," she tells him, rearranging her face to look politely interested, "but please feel free share your thoughts with the rest of us. I'd love to hear your view on the subject." Kakashi goes very still. He blinks. Hermione gives him a couple of seconds before smiling. "I thought so," she adds an edge to her voice, knowing he won't take offence, "then how about you shut up?"

"Besides," Hermione adds a moment later, turned back to the rest of the group, "I did say so, only with fewer words."

"I can't believe you're not a Ravenclaw," Terry says from his seat at Gabrielle's side. "Statistically unlikely isn't a Gryffindor thing to say."

Hermione shrugs at him, skewering a potato in her fork. "It's perfectly possible to be brave _and_ know what a bell curve is," she tells him. This subject seems old by now, just another proof of the way their school houses stay with them, causing certain expectations depending of what an old hat decided when you were eleven. It's tiresome.

"What I'd like to know," Neville says, his eyes on her across the table, "is who wrote the song. Because it can't have been George." It's a change of subject, and Hermione gives him an upwards twist of her lips. She suspects he's as tired of his traits being compared to the house values as she is.

Nobody knows the answer to Neville's question, and the venue is too magically saturated for phones to work properly. Hermione makes a mental note to ask George later. He'd clearly tweaked some things to suit Ginny and Harry, and she'd like to hear the original.

.oOo.

A good thing, Kakashi's noticing, is that with the sheer amount of people busy catching up with each other, he isn't expected to contribute much to discussions. That he's not magical helps too, given the way they throw around names and spells and concepts he's never heard of. Someone else might have problems with that, with how much it leaves him on the outside, but to Kakashi it's mitigating the awkwardness rather than worsening it.

Not that people don't strike up conversations with him every now and then. He's news after all, and the more alcohol people has had, the more unashamedly curious they become. They also get easier to side-track, making it alright. This is not his scene, he doesn't know the rules here, but it's also a window into Hermione's life. She grew up around these people, is partly fostered by the way they think and act, and that makes them fascinating in their own right. It's very hard not to wonder what it must have been like to be thrown into this at age eleven, with little guidance and no way to back out.

He's made it past dinner and is sitting now with Hermione and a bunch of her old classmates at one of the remaining tables. It's all well-worn stories from school, easy laughter, and a complete avoidance of anything not light and funny. Kakashi can respect that. Watching their dynamics is interesting; who gets to speak, who chooses to stay silent, who laughs a little too loud. For all that Kakashi sucks at dealing with emotion and has an awful track record when it comes to building relationships with people, he does know how to read a group. It's crucial to have a sense of those things to work in a team, and to quickly evaluate an opposing one.

After seeing Harry and Ginny greeting him like someone they know, and after being friendly with Neville over dinner, this group has decided he's part of them. That he's here with Hermione, and that Luna's been coming and going at his side throughout the event clearly matters less. The five of them where all driving forces in the war, Kakashi knows, along with Ron, but some people's opinions weight more than other's. Now he knows who they are here.

A story about something called a portable swamp is being told, when the music switches and everyone is getting to their feet. Screaming. There are some things about partying Kakashi has never understood – first and foremost why it's supposed to be fun – and the sheer volume of people is one of them. He watches as Hermione twitches to move, how she opens her mouth to try and drag him with her, and decides to forego the whole discussion. "Go," he says, making a shooing motion.

"You sure?" Hermione doesn't look at the table's only other remaining occupant. Kakashi raises an eyebrow, daring her to say she doesn't think he can take care of himself. She huffs and shakes her head, but smiles.

"Come on," the girl next to Hermione begins dragging her away from the table. "Your boyfriend will be fine."

"He's not my boyfriend," Kakashi hears her protest as she gives in and comes along.

Kakashi sits silently as Hermione is swept away, a huge smile on her face as she bounces up to her friends on the dancefloor. Two chairs away Ron fidgets. All the other tables are empty and Kakashi fully expects him to stand up and go to the bathroom, or the bar, or anywhere that's not here, but he doesn't. Almost a full minute pass before Ron clears his throat.

"So," he says, "I heard from Harry and Gin' you thought them how to throw knives?"

Turning only his head, body still facing the dancefloor, Kakashi answers the question. "Yes." He knows he will never respect Ron, isn't interested to get to know him, but he does want to know where this is going. Not that he plans on making it easy for the other man.

"And you're in the military?" Ron crosses his arms over his chest. Kakashi gives him a slow nod, his face carefully set to neutral. "But Japan hasn't done much real fighting since the second muggle world war, right?"

"Not much, no," Kakashi agrees. He has read up on the subject, for obvious reasons, and apparently so has Ron. Which tells Kakashi all he needs to know. This conversation is getting better by the second.

"Most of us's been to war together, you know," Ron says casually. Kakashi raises an eyebrow in question, waiting to see where this will lead. "It really gives you a special relationship; there's nothing quite like fighting for your lives together."

Because he's trained better than that, Kakashi doesn't laugh. Instead, he folds his eyes into a smile and blinks slowly. He doesn't know exactly what Ron's hoping to achieve with this, but he guesses he's meant to either be impressed or feel left out. "I can imagine," he answers, not lightly but not all the way dry either. Let Ron take it how he wants; Kakashi doesn't need to measure himself against this man.

"Did some years as an auror after that, to help hunt down the rest of the dark wizards. It was pretty brutal, to tell you the truth, but we were needed." Ron nods solemnly, then arranges his face into a grim smile.

Kakashi can't help but wonder if this is about intimidation, rather than exclusion or boasting. For all he knows civilian are cowed this easily, and Ron with his research and poorly worded question has clearly come to the conclusion Kakashi's career has been academical. If Kakashi was inclined to disprove him it'd be easy to ask how much blood Ron has on his hands. Kakashi has no doubt they're very clean compared to his. But he doesn't particularly _want_ to talk about that, and he feels no need to defend himself. Placing an elbow against the table and leaning his chin against his hand, Kakashi waits for Ron to continue.

"Eventually, of course, we'd rounded up everyone with ties to Voldemort. It got a bit boring after that, so I joined George at the shop instead. Never a dull day there." There's tension in the line of Ron's shoulders, his jaw clenched shut a little too tight. Kakashi smiles at him.

"Good for you," he tells Ron, and he can see how his lack of reaction irks the man. Kakashi's been playing this game for years, casual and laidback are his strongest defences. When fighting is off the table, that is.

Ron fails to say anything else and Kakashi turns back to the dancefloor. Hermione is glancing his way every now and then but before she can do anything Luna comes twirling through the room. "Kakashi," she says as she stops by the table, "we're doing Limbo in the kitchen, will you join us?"

"Limbo?" he asks her, raising an eyebrow.

Luna smiles, her hands and head still moving with the music. "It's a game, sort of. You'll like it, I think."

"And you base this on what, exactly?" Kakashi asks. While standing up, because what does he have to lose? The current company seems unlikely to give more entertainment.

.oOo.

Hermione's sweaty and winded, her feet hurting from wearing heels and her makeup probably forming dark semicircles beneath her eyes. The charm she used this morning to make it stick is meant to be reapplied every four hours, but she stopped bothering after dinner. Dropping into the newly vacated seat at Ginny's side she nicks the girl's glass and smell its contents. Water. Perfect.

"Thank you, Mrs Potter," Hermione says raising the glass, before emptying it. With all the guests it's been impossible to get a minute with the bride or groom all day, and Hermione needs a break from the dancefloor. "How are you?" she continues as Ginny stretches across the table for another glass. Probably Harry's. "Has it sunken in yet?"

"Not at all," Ginny laughs, happy and relaxed, then zooms in on Hermione. "But that's not what you came for," her smile remains even with the narrowed eyes, and she leans closer "you want the gossip, right?"

"It actually wasn't first on my mind, but now that you brought it up…" Hermione caught only the end of it; Neehma leaving, then Harry, and (after a word from Ginny) Ron. It hadn't been the reason she came over, but if freely offered she's not about to turn it down.

"My idiot brother must have gone head to head with Kakashi, somehow," Ginny says. Hermione's stomach twists. She did leave them alone after all, Kakashi telling her to wasn't enough of an excuse really. He'd seemed fine, whenever she looked over, and then Luna had dragged him off, but… She takes a breath. Kakashi's a grown-up. He knows how to socialize. Sort of. And where to find her. It's alright. Probably. "Oh, quit worrying," Ginny shoves Hermione in the shoulder. "Ron only has himself to blame and last I saw Kakashi he was fighting for the title as Limbo champion. He looked fine."

"Now, back to the point." Ginny dons her best gossiping face, clearly looking forward to share whatever just took place. "I love my brother, alright, but he's being his regular daft, petty self; sitting here grumbling about Kakashi. It was all rather funny actually, because it was so stupid, but then he goes on to say something about wearing Slytherin green and how they are all lying, cheating snakes, and how having a scar across your face doesn't make you cool, it's just ugly."

Hermione fails to swallow the water properly. "Isn't Neehma?" she gets out between coughing.

"Yep," Ginny says, nodding.

"And Harry?" Hermione manages a full inhalation. She can feel her eyebrows halfway up her forehead.

"Yep." Ginny nods again.

Half laughing, half grimacing with her face hidden by her hands, Hermione shakes her head. "What was he thinking?" she says, hearing her voice is several notes higher than usual. She's not surprised, not really, but at the same time she can't believe he put his foot that far down his mouth. It might be a record.

"He wasn't, I recon," Ginny answers, her grin and eyes wide. "Which I told him, right before I told him if he didn't make it right with Harry I'd string him up by his ankles outside the shop, in only his underwear, on a school holiday."

.oOo.

The crowd is starting to thin out, and Kakashi's hoping that'll mean they're going home soon. If he mentioned anything of the sort, he knows Hermione would leave, so he doesn't. Throughout the evening she's checked in with him regularly, and every time he's assured her he's fine. He can manage a night of awkwardly socializing with magical civilian strangers if it means her enjoying herself freely. She looks happy like this, fooling around on the dancefloor in something that's a complicated game of tag involving two people holding a rope and trying to bunch dancers together, and Kakashi's perfectly content to stay leaning against the wall. Dancing is not his thing. It requires a kind of unchecked silliness that he has no idea when he was meant to pick up.

Tiredness is seeping in, and Kakashi would rather stand here alone, but he's joined by a guy he's been introduced to but can't recall the name of. With everyone remembering Kakashi's name, he refrains from asking. A beer is dangling loosely from his fingertips and hints of blood shoot trough his eyes.

"I'd stop that if I were you," he says, skidding a bit on the letters. "You know, one guy to another."

"Stop what?" Kakashi asks, not turning away from the dancefloor. He entertains the idea of walking away but doesn't know where to.

"Your girl, dancing with Lee." A glance shows the stranger nodding. Kakashi finds he can't not answer.

"She's not my girl," he says, for the sake of it, before getting to the point. "But even if she was, she could dance with whomever she wants." That kind of jealousy is something Kakashi's watched from time to time but has a hard time understanding. Sure, he's never been there, has never understood why people acts like all of it is such a big deal. Maybe it is, and he missed something.

"Sure," the guy waves his bear around, "absolutely." He takes a sip. "Only that's Lee, you know, you shouldn't trust him." At this point his chin is almost on top of Kakashi's shoulder. Which is a bit much. "He's been with, like, everyone."

Kakashi uses two fingertips against a sweaty forehead to push him back and curbs the urge to wipe his hand on his pants. It would look rude. "Maa," he says, keeping his tone disinterested even as he wants to drive his fist into the other's solar plexus. He chooses not to argue the specifics of his relationship with Hermione, but what's stated. "I don't need to trust him, do I?" he asks without waiting for an answer. "Since I trust _her_. Unless you're saying he forces himself on people, in which case I'm not who you should be talking to."

"No, no, no," the man backpedals, both verbally and physically. "Nothing like that. He's just a player."

Showing his hands into his pockets, Kakashi turns back to the dancefloor without answering. It takes a few seconds, but then the man mutters something illegible and wanders off to bother someone else. Kakashi exhales. Out on the floor Lee twirls Hermione around before dipping her back with the end of the song. They're both laughing, and Kakashi allows himself a small smile at the sheer gracelessness they manage.

Hopefully, Hermione will never let anyone own her, or dictate what she can do or who she can dance with. She's having fun with an old friend, and Kakashi has no need to put that against his relationship with her. They're not like that, so technically she _could_ do what she wants with whoever she wants, but Kakashi knows she won't abandon him here to get home on his own. No matter what. Any issues of hers doesn't even factor in.

Another, slower, song comes on and Hermione waltzes over to Kakashi's side. She's loose and smiling, hooking her arm into his. "Time to go home?" she asks. Kakashi opens his mouth to tell her it's okay, they can stay, but she cuts him off. "Trust me," she says, "it'll go downhill from here." Using her free hand, she tries to smooth the escaped strands of hair out of her face. It fails. It's still odd to see her in a dress and heels, but like this, with makeup smudged around her eyes and curls sticking out from her hairdo, she's relaxed back into herself again. Most people have lost their flair as the night has worn on, but Hermione has somehow gained more of it.

"I'll take your word for it," Kakashi tells her, rather than saying he can't wait. If he has to small talk with one more person tonight, he might resort to violence.

"I heard," Hermione says as they set out to find Harry and Ginny to say their goodbyes, "that it's your fault half of the Ravenclaws have spent hours arguing over how many tennis balls would fit in this room?" She sounds entertained more than anything else, and Kakashi finds himself smiling sheepishly.

"I had to say something," he admits, "and I was getting tired of the whole so-what-do-you-do-thing everyone persists on bringing up."

Hermione drops her forehead against Kakashi's shoulder as she laughs, letting him navigate the room for them both. "So," she says when she looks up, "what other topics have you discussed tonight?"

"Nothing much," Kakashi answers with a shrug and an innocent smile, knowing she'll laugh, "what useless talents people have, psychics winning the lottery, strange things to eat, that sort of things."

He was right.

.oOo.

It's funny, Hermione thinks, how somehow apparition has changed everything in her life, and nothing at all. When minutes is too big a unit to measure the time it takes to get home, the mood of the party should really follow her to the kitchen. At the very least. Preferably all the way to bed.

Maybe it's about distance though, not time, and that's why it's harder to be happy in the laundry room than it was at the apparition point. Or it's not about that at all, but about her and her stupid brain. Either way, she knows this feeling, and has still failed to foresee it. With it happening more times than not, she should have. It's been hanging on the edge of conscious thought all evening, after all.

It's hard not to hate how her brain must come in and ruin everything. Or is that her emotions? She doesn't even know what causes what anymore. Not when it's only a few days since she first realized maybe she hasn't been all head and no heart like she thought.

Either way, Hermione's never managed to go straight to bed coming home for a party. She needs to wind down and eat something so she can sleep in without waking from starvation at eight o'clock. Small talking while making sandwiches goes on autopilot, even without her honest attention. She feels horrible now, for leaving Kakashi to fend for himself while she was dancing, and it doesn't matter that she asked several times, or that he said she should. It's something to project the anxiety on, whatever her logical side thinks about it.

"What about you?" Kakashi asks as they sit down at the kitchen table, the chairs scraping loudly against the floor. "Did you have a good day?" And okay, she might have focused a bit on his evening, asking questions and steering the conversation his way. Anything to think less of herself.

Smiling at her sandwich, Hermione wonders where her hunger went. "I did," she says.

"But?"

To avoid having to answer she bites into the bread; the good kind, buttered and with cheese that taste something as opposed to the boring one she's had in Iceland. It grows in her mouth, turning into a heavy mass that she forces herself to swallow piece by piece. Hermione rinse the last bit down with a mouthful of scalding tea, and grasps for a way to start. "I don't know," she says, only to fall back into silence. The feel of Kakashi watching her makes her turn her head down, only glancing up when the silence gets too thick to stand. "Do you want that?" she asks. It's not a very clear question, she knows this even before Kakashi cocks his head and tilts his eyebrows in question. It's not an answer to his question either, but she'll get there. Eventually. "The whole wedding thing," she clarifies "white picket fence, kids."

Unable to hold Kakashi's gaze, Hermione shrugs and looks away. Her parents have hideous pictures on the kitchen walls, some kind of nineties posters with still-lifes of grapes. They've hung there for as long as she can remember, and while most of the house has been modernized, the kitchen has remained. She's avoiding the subject she knows. Doesn't particularly want to put it into words, even in her own mind.

"I don't know," Kakashi answers, his eyes narrowed in thought as she meets them. Not for more than a second, because she can't stand that right now, but she tries to keep turned to his face. At least while he's talking. "I never really thought about it," he says.

Asking about that is tempting. Very, very, tempting. Not only would it derail the conversation, but it also genuinely makes Hermione wonder. There are so many things unsaid in Kakashi's voice, in the way his hand turns halfway to his mouth to put his sandwich back down instead of taking a bite. Behind the book it's harder to read him than under the mask, but not impossible. Knowing what she does about his culture, combining it's view of mental health with what she's heard of the relationships people seem to have, she can see that choosing to live with someone might only be an added pressure. It makes Hermione wonder about the books he read, and it aches in the place her own loneliness sits. Better to be lonely alone though, than in a relationship. That much is for certain.

"I do," Hermione tells him, instead of pushing for things he might not want to talk about. Her feeling bad and wishing to avoid a subject doesn't have to affect anyone else. And also; she sort of wants to tell him. This small piece, at least. Her mind is feeling jumbled. "And I love seeing my friends getting their happily-ever-afters, but it also _hurts_ because it reminds me I won't ever have that. I'm just so fucking broken that I can't. I'm not able to be in a romantic relationship because it comes with certain things and I've hardwired those things to feelings of anxiety and guilt and inadequacy, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Because I am defective. So that's the but. Overall, I had an amazing night, but now I'm slowing down enough for my thoughts to catch up and that's brutal."

Hermione snaps her mouth shut. That was far more than the part she meant to share. She was supposed to stop after the thing about her not being able to have a romantic relationship.

This is not something she can talk about.

How could she?

Shit, she's really stepped in it now. She can't heave things like that out. Now what? It's not the kind of thing she can talk to Kakashi about. Or anyone. But especially not a guy.

She could oblivate him. Maybe. Take it back. If he lets her.

A hand shows up through the grey spots. Oh. Grey spots. Not good. Deep breath. Kakashi slowly places a finger under her chin, lifting her head up. Hermione keeps her gaze on his wrist. "I'd like you to look at me," he says, voice calm. Almost distant. It's not a demand, not even a question, and because of that Hermione steels herself for the space of an inhale, then follows his request. The book is gone; the set of his chin under the mask and the furrow between his eyes at odds with his composed tone. "No matter what happened," he says, and Hermione knows he took that short exchange on the bed weeks ago to heart, has seen it in the way he's changed a lot of little things, but she's been avoiding thinking about what that means, what he took with him from her confession then, "you are not defective."

It's impossible to keep meeting his eyes after that. The fingers withdraw as Hermione turns her face away. She swallows, fighting to keep her breathing stable. "You know nothing about it," she gets out.

"I don't," Kakashi's words are slow, careful almost and Hermione wonders what's on his face but doesn't dare to find out, "and you don't have to tell me. But whatever it was and whatever it did, it didn't make you defective. That's not…" he trails off, and Hermione guesses he's shaking his head, or shrugging maybe. Something.

"That's how it feels." Hermione glances at the collar of his shirt. Sees his Adam's apple move as he swallows. It's a little unclear if she's winning the fight to not cry, or losing the one to at least be able to do that. Given her parched throat she might not have the fluids to produce tears. That could explain it.

"I know," Kakashi says. She believes him

The kitchen falls silent but for the ticking of the clock and the hum of the refrigerator. Kakashi's left his hand out across the table, and Hermione can't decide if she wants to take it or not. To get away from the decision she closes her eyes. Wraps her arms tightly around herself.

Kakashi won't ask. They've touched on this once, weeks ago, and she said she couldn't talk about it. Apparently he intends to honour that. Only, he does sort of know, in a way, doesn't he? At least the topic, and it feels a little bit silly that she can talk about anxiety and depression without batting an eye but can't even think the word sex without cringing. She's a grown up, she's been joking about it with her friends for years, but that's different. That's not about her, or about… well.

These kinds of things are possibly mentioned in an all-female setting, but even then it's more about who wants who, or what, or other things that only makes Hermione fear she'll be expected to share. Either way, it's clearly not a topic to discuss with male friends, not as a straight woman. It simply _isn't_. It could imply things. Destroy things. Make them awkward in a way that can't be undone.

It could also be… good. Reduce the weight on her chest a little bit.

Hermione breathes. Tries to tell her heart to slow down, push her pulse back into her chest. Kakashi already knows much. She's let him in on him more of her current self than anyone else, but this is different. There's no anger or reasoning to protect her here; only shame and guilt and the overwhelming sense of being damaged beyond repair.

The clock is still ticking out seconds, a testament to how none of this matters to the world in general. To her, it fills the universe. Hermione gnaws on the inside of her cheek. Comes to a decision.

"You know, I…" Hermione hesitates. Some words are hard to say out loud, is all. Although she should be able to keep it implied; Kakashi's smart, he'll fill out the blanks. She starts over. "It never used to be a big deal for me," she says, "not like it is for most people. Then I met Ron, and we were the first real partners either of us had had, and things worked. Everything was good. Until we decided to, you know," Hermione clears her throat, feeling the blush heat her face, "go all the way. I… it turned out… it didn't go so well, okay? I started getting these yeast infections, and… I tried to get help, I went to a several doctors and they all basically told me others had it worse. As if that ever helped anyone."

Daring a glance in Kakashi's direction Hermione catches the angle of his head, the sharpness in his eyes, the way his elbows rest against the edge of the table. He doesn't seem to be freaking out too severely. Following the grain of the wooden tabletop with a finger, Hermione allows herself exactly one breath. God, she shouldn't have said 'yeast infection', it's not like anyone wants to know that. Talk about oversharing. She'll never be able to look at Kakashi properly again. Breath's running out: Get back to it. It's not like it can get _more_ awkward at this point. Hopefully. Either way she's started now, might as well get it over with.

"It became a vicious circle," she tells the table. "Me feeling incapable when I couldn't, and wanting to do it for real, and pushing myself to be able to, and… It got really, really ugly, okay? I'd be so disappointed in myself, hating my brain for getting in between everything and my body for not working, up until the point where I couldn't even begin to think about it, much less do something, without getting anxious enough to just curl up and cry. But I wanted to function, to be a real partner, so I kept trying and I…" she's running out of air Forces an inhalation down before plodding on. If she stops long enough to think now, she'll freak out.

"Ron was, supportive, sort of. He was all 'we're gonna fix this' and 'I can wait' and 'don't worry', but he also, I don't know. He really wanted it, I guess, and he kept saying I was worth waiting for, but that only made the pressure worse, in a way. I mean, he even refused to do anything without me, saying he didn't want to. Only, I knew he had, you know, drive, and that made me feel a thousand times worse. He really, really wanted it, and I loved him so I wanted him to have it." Rubbing a hand over her mouth, Hermione swallows before continuing." It disgusts me now," she admits, voice losing its strength, "that part in particular, but I couldn't see how fucked up it was at the time. I was too busy feeling worthless. And I mean, I wanted to want it too, for my own sake, it wasn't like it was all for him, don't think that. It wasn't like that, but…" she shrugs, not knowing where she was meaning to go. Her steam's running out.

"Either way, now it's like, I don't have any want left, not that I had a lot to lose." Hermione never did reach that phase where she gossiped about boys and dreamed of kissing them and whatnot. Sometimes it seemed like it was all her Hogwarts dormmates did. Her mother used to tell her it'd sort itself out when she met the right guy, and it had for a while with Ron. Before, well, everything. It didn't leave her with much of a baseline, however, going from not really interested to newly in love to completely messed up. There's no way to explain that to Kakashi though, not that she can think of. "Now, if anything so much as remotely reminds me of a situation that might get intimate, I… Well, you've seen that," she says instead, wanting to get this over with. "And that was hardly on the scale."

Hermione wishes her hair wasn't fastened up in a neat wedding hairdo, spelled to stay in shape. She wants to entangle her hands in the curly strands and hang her head down. Feel the sting on her scalp and be able to hide her face. There's no way she's taking out her wand to fix it now, however. She crosses her arms on the table instead, laying her head down on them.

"I'm damaged," she admits. Which is not according to plan. She still goes on. Is unable to do anything else. It's like she's built up enough speed at this point that it takes time to grind to a halt. "Or I feel like it, and I feel dysfunctional and broken and helpless and…" Shaking her head as much as is possible, Hermione squeezes her eyes shut. "And I did this to myself," she says, voice steadier than she thinks it has a right to be, "so I should be able to stop, right? Only I _can't_. And I broke Ron too, or this thing did, and I don't want to destroy anyone else. Or put myself in that position ever again; so I've come to realize I'll have to give up on the notion of romantic love, because I'll never be enough."

Moments tick by in silence. Hermione oscillating wildly between wishing she'd kept her mouth shut and a tired, almost hollow, relief at finally having it out there. Before her panic has a chance to take over completely she forces herself to turn her head up, chin digging into her arm as she looks at Kakashi properly for the first time since she started talking. He's wide eyed, a hand propping up his chin and covering most of his lower face as he blinks at her. "I…" he clears his throat. "There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but it seemed like I shouldn't interrupt you, and now I can't remember them." The hand moves from his chin to rub his temple. "Could I hug you?" he asks, "or is that?"

Hermione's stomach sinks. She hasn't cried this far, which is odd in itself, but her throat is painfully tight now. It's nice; that he cares. That he asks. But it's also devastating. She can't stand having him hesitate to touch her or worry about hurting her. Nothing is worse than having someone tiptoe around her, making her feel brittle and anxious. Like an allergy, triggering every single one of her self-doubts.

"Can we pretend this is any other subject?" Hermione tells him, managing to keep it a request. "Because I don't want you to be scared of me. Or for me, or whatever. Just… I'm not any different than I've been all along." The difference is _he knows_ now. Her deepest, darkest, most shameful secret. The one she's never even come close to telling anyone but doctors about, and they all patted her on the head and told her not to worry.

Kakashi's on his feet and halfway around the table before Hermione starts to stand. Not because he's moving particularly fast, but because there's an emptiness spreading through her body, making her hesitant to trust her legs. He's out of his jacket, and she leans her forehead on the shoulder of his shirt knowing she might leave make-up stains. Hopefully they'll come out; it's a nice shirt. Arms wrap firmly around her. The smell of new fabric, warmth and security seeps in with the air she breathes, and she leans into Kakashi. Lets him keep track of how to remain upright.

She should cry, but can't. It's unfair. She could use a good cry right about now. If she dared, she'd straighten out her neck, turn her head to the side, and burrow her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry." Kakashi's voice is low. Hermione can't tell if he's talking about his reaction of her history. "You shouldn't," he cuts himself off. Takes a breath. "I wish you didn't have to feel like that." Hermione's lips twitch in an emotionless smile at his correction. "Can I ask," he continues, "about some of it? You wouldn't have to answer."

The nod Hermione gives is not without reluctance, but it's needed, she thinks. In for a penny, in for a pound, and all that.

"What is it that you want?" Kakashi asks. "From a romantic relationship I mean?"

Hermione doesn't know what question she was expecting, but it wasn't this one. She allows herself a few seconds to collect her thoughts. "I," she turns her head a little, letting her voice come out clear of Kakashi's shoulder. "I guess intimacy?" she says, glad that their position means she can't see his face. "Like, having someone to share my life with, through better and through worse. To be that special someone. But also closeness. All the little touches, kisses, hugs, sleeping next to someone." Hearing how it sounds, Hermione cuts herself off. Feels her cheeks heat up and hopes he can't feel it through his clothes. Maybe not continuing makes it worse – not mentioning how she misses being allowed to trail her fingers over smooth skin, to not worry about watching someone, to be caressed – but it could also be seen as an imploration. She'd rather have him catch the likeness of what they have, than have him think she covets more from him.

"I didn't think those things were the problem?" Kakashi points out, a slowness to his voice giving away how carefully he measures his words. "Or do you mean them like…?" They're both very good at not mentioning things by word here, Hermione thinks.

"No. I… they're not, not really, unless it triggers the anxiety. But they sort of go together, you know?" She wishes they didn't, but the world never cared a lot about her wishes. Besides, it's not like dating is doable like this. How would she swing that? At what _point_ do you tell someone you can't have any kind of sex?

Kakashi shrugs. "Not really," he says. Hermione's unsure which part he even answered, him knowing or them going together, or both. Asking is tempting, but she also wants to know where he's going with this.

"Sure," she says instead, feeling curiously detached from the whole thing "ideally there might be someone who'd be willing to stand that, and live with jerking off in the shower or whatever, but I don't think _I_ could. I'd hate myself, and be terrified of breaking them, and feel horribly inadequate. I'm damaged enough as it is, no need to add to it."

She fully expects a reprimand, probably a poke, but none come. "Are people like that for real?" Kakashi asks instead, something in his tone that Hermione can't decipher without seeing his face. "I mean, they obviously have sex, there are children, but you say 'live with jerking of in the shower' as if they couldn't just go without?"

Hermione is getting the feeling she'll need to revisit this conversation, and Kakashi's reactions, when her mind is clearer. "Well," she answers for now, not bothering to try and make complete sense of it, "it is a biological drive. It's not like I want someone to be self-sacrificing and passive aggressively punishing me through themselves ever again." Hearing herself say it make her see how true it is. How Ron was punishing far more than he supported, at least towards the end. "In any areas," she adds, because the behaviour spanned a wide range of things.

"But that's," Kakashi hesitates, the oddness in his voice mingled with thoughtfulness, "mostly talk, right? Some people clearly enjoy it more than others, but that's it." It's not formulated as a question, but it's there none the less, if you look for it.

"Eh, no?" Hermione tells him. She knows he hasn't had any friends that he's really talked to. Not for real. But this still feels like the kind of thing he should have picked up. The guy's hooked on romance novels for Merlin's sake. "People do get turned on and stuff," she continues, daring to say the words when it's not specifically about her anymore. "Sex sells for a reason." Or so she'd been told; she just isn't one for exploitation of bodies. Or casual sex. But that was more about her unyielding logical mind overruling her emotions, and the fact that she was a bit uptight and never let loose.

Kakashi hums thoughtfully but says nothing more on the subject. Hermione's feet are hurting. She wants to go to bed and forget this night ever happened but that'd mean she'd have to stand on her own. And face Kakashi. She's not sure she's ready for that. "Is it unfair of me to hate Ron a little bit?" he asks when the silence is getting loud. "As well as those doctors?"

"Maybe," she answers, turning her head a bit to see the line of his cheekbone under the mask. Kakashi angles his head, allowing their eyes to meet for a moment. "But I'm not sure I can blame you." Hermione sighs. "At least not about the doctors. I wonder sometimes how things would be if just one of them would have listened and taken me seriously. When it could still have been turned around."

"You tried talking to your therapist?" Kakashi shifts slightly, and Hermione takes the given opportunity to change sides before she gets a wry neck. "Or someone? He adds when Hermione doesn't answer straight away.

"For a long time," Hermione says, trying to figure out the answer as she goes, "I told myself that if the physical bit just got fixed it would all go away. And by the time enough gynaecologist had turned me down that I'd lost all hope I… couldn't, I guess. It had grown too big. I don't think I could have put words to it, and it's not," she searches for words. Fails to find the right one. "A subject," she settles on. "That I think I'll ever feel comfortable talking to anyone about. It doesn't matter that I told her about the war and that she guided me through that and depressions and whatever. This is different." As she says it, she knows why that is, even without having thought much about it before. The war was never _her_ fault, nor anything that happened due to it. Not that she can imagine admitting that out loud.

"You told _me_." Kakashi's voice is off, a weird mix between thick and light. Hermione can't help but smile a little into his chest hearing it.

"That's different too," she tells him. As if he didn't already know that. With him, it's been small steps and bigger revelations and all of it tangled together by the natural intimacy of sharing so much time together. Not a limited hour once a week that you had to be able to somewhat function and walk away after.

"I wish I had something smart to say about it," Kakashi's chest heaves in a quiet sigh, "but it's not my area of expertise, is it?"

"Maa," Hermione tells him, "you're doing fine." The raw gaping hole her confession left behind hasn't vanished, but the side of it that is closest to Kakashi is feeling less desolate.

"I guess I'm learning." Kakashi leans his head back to study the ceiling before peering down at her. "But not what I meant," he says, loosing some of his casualness. "Relationships, intimacy, all that stuff, I can't give any advice about that. So, I might be different but I'm probably not your best choice."

"You are though. Without a doubt." Not only because her other choices are either close friends of Ron's, Luna, or her mother; Kakashi's been earning that spot for his own merits for quite some time now. The way his lips turns upward is easily visible through the mask from this distance, and with all the training Hermione's got on catching it. On her shoulder blade a hand is pressed in tighter, enlarging the point of contact to include the palm. She gives in to her earlier wish and burrows her face against the side of his neck, pressing her itching eyelids against the cool fabric of his mask.

This time, the silence that falls is calming, accentuating how tired Hermione is. It's the middle of the night, and this day's been a rollercoaster. She's not sure she wants to know how much of her weight Kakashi is taking. "It feels so stupid that I can't cry," she tells him. "I thought I'd cry. I'd need that." It feels wrong to have been somewhat composed through all this. Like that means it matters less.

Kakashi's throat vibrates with his hum. A thoughtful one, Hermione thinks. "Some things are too shattering, I believe," he says. "At least when faced head on." If Hermione's snort is derisive, it's meant only towards herself.

"Maybe," she agrees. "Although what does that say about me? Torture and war and whatever; I can deal with that. The idea of being incapable to want to have sex; breaks me completely." She feels shallow and self-centred saying it, even more so since it's something she did to herself and should be able to fix.

"That's not what it sounded like to me." There's something in the way Kakashi says it that makes Hermione decide it's safest not to look up to see what's on his face.

"No?" she asks, unsure if she wants to hear the answer, but unable to keep her mouth shut.

In the pause before he speaks, Hermione feels Kakashi's heart beat against her ribcage. It's steady and calm. "No," he finally says, dragging the word out. "It sounded like the problem is you are sure everyone else does, and that because of that you'll die alone. Which you don't want; but if the choice is between disliking yourself alone or in a relationship, you'd rather not take the guilt of the latter. Especially since you're convinced you'll destroy your partner. So no, I don't think it is the sex, I think it's too bad to cry over because you believe it makes you undeserving of love."

That's… Hermione lifts her head, bends back enough to break the contact from her stomach and up. Stares at Kakashi. Tries to come up with a way to answer.

"What?" he asks, his eyebrows twitching together with the question.

Hermione opens her mouth. Closes it again. He's not wrong, not at all. It's just… Yeah, okay. Maybe that's one way to put it that makes her feel sadder, but also less ridiculous for thinking this is a big deal. "Didn't you say you didn't know anything about this?" she finally gets out. It's not at all what she wants to say, but it's what she manages. It's a start.

Kakashi's eyes folds into a smile, the way they do when he's about to say something dryly amusing. "I don't know anything about relationships and all that," he says, and it is easy-going enough to separate his words from their meaning. "Avoiding it to keep everyone involved protected? Right up my alley."

A laugh rises in Hermione's belly. It's not proper exactly, but he's telling it as a joke and this is all completely fucked up. Since when is it okay to say things like that? To put words to Hermione's feelings like they're actually valid? The first chuckle climbs up her chest through her throat, and she's about to smile, to let it out. This whole thing is too ridiculous. She never saw it go like this. Only the boiling feeling pass through her mouth and falls from her lips, not a chuckle at all, but a sob.


	35. Chapter 35

**AN:** I don't know. Things have been slow going these past months, at least when it comes to writing. I've had way too much anxiety to be healthy (mostly thanks to a combination of Covid and the general political climate making the world feel on the brink of chaos. Like, how can so many people _not care_ about others? How can a person's sexual orientation or religion or skin colour disqualify them from basic human rights? How can it be more important to find someone to _blame_, than to deal with the issue?) And when I get anxious I speak out, and then I get more anxious because I think everyone (including my closest friends) hate me now, and… Well, things have been a bit rough, is all.

While I'm at it, I also blame my inability to answer comments on this fact. You've written so many amazing things, they make me incredibly happy and light, and I want to answer them. I do. Only 1) the pile of them has grown so big it's freaking me out a bit, because it seems unfair if I don't treat them all the same, and 2) I have so many things I want to answer and say to you guys, but like I said above; when I get anxious it always feels like people will misunderstand or disagree and judge me and never talk to me again. And I like your reviews, so, yeah. I can't manage the long answers partly because then I feel like I'm mean to those if you who don't get answers if I don't do the short thank-yous as well, and partly because I'm feeling you might misunderstand and leave me, and I can't manage the short ones because there such a lot, and because I'd also have to do the long ones.

Either way, our planned vacation hit a serious snag when my boyfriend got sick (not Covid) and I ended up with a lot of time on my hands. Especially before his Covid test results came back and I no longer had to be completely isolated. At least, I managed to finish this chapter. With PMS coming in, I won't be happy about it no matter how much I revise it, so I'll just post it anyway. It's fanfiction, and if you wanted something perfectly proof-read and really polished I guess you'd be reading published books.

Last, I want to send huge thanks out to Sunny_Crimson for the comparison of Gai and Luna, and tabjoy13 for the idea of Ron bitching to Harry about Kakashi's scar. If there's anyone else who's sent me ideas that I've used and not given credit for, please let me know!

I love you all to bits! Knowing you're out there gives me so much energy and happiness 3

* * *

Hermione is preoccupied. Kakashi can tell from how she eats her breakfast: chewing slowly, picking at the handle of her teacup. It's not like reading his book makes him blind to what goes on around him. He also knows it involves him, somehow, given the glances she keeps sending his way. Their breakfasts are usually mostly silent, because Kakashi _can_ wake up quickly when he needs to, but he hates it. On a regular morning he'd rather sit down with a random volume of Icha-Icha, allowing his eyes to follow the well-known lines until his brain gets into gear and the sentences stop being a string of disconnected words stuck together. He never was a morning person.

The morning after the night before, it's not hard to guess the general subject of Hermione's ruminations. Kakashi's just not sure in which way he ties into it all. Not that he'll ask. Not when a) they need to get going in half an hour, b) Hermione's parents are moving around the house, having been up for hours already, and c) he might not want to hear the answer. It's bound to come up later, anyway.

The thing is, yesterday gave Kakashi quite a few things to think about as well. Half about Hermione; because many pieces fell into place there, even if Kakashi's not sure he understands the full extent of what was shared. He'd expected something different, some singular horrible event that had scarred her. This is not that bad. And a thousand times worse. Fighting one strong enemy is always, if not easier, so at least more straight forward than fighting an infinite amount of lesser ones. Being worn down over time by hostiles you find harder and harder to beat. Telling yourself that this one might be the last, _has to be the last, _because you're going to fall over soon. Finally being brought down by a genin you couldn't keep at bay. Surviving (because genin doesn't really have attacks that kill when they take you down, and seldom has the coldness to finish the job once you're out of commission), and having to put that in your mission report once you get out of hospital: Hatake Kakashi, jōnin as of nearly two decades, practically killed by a snot-nosed kid who barely graduated.

It happens, is the thing, at one point or another to anyone who goes out enough missions. But it makes it close to impossible afterwards, to know who to blame or to tell where it went wrong. It's just easier being able to namedrop a S-rank missing nin and leave it at that.

Apparently, no simple S-rank events to go back and patch up for Hermione. And also apparently, Kakashi's thinking himself into the sinking, spinning sensation of anxiety. Not good.

He wishes he'd know what to do, is all, and that's sort of the _other_ half of what he can't stop thinking about after yesterday. Himself.

Flipping pages is instinctual by now, the timing for how long it should take to read perfected by years of practice. Kakashi doesn't think about it, simply lets his eyes track the text; right to left because he can't bring Hermione's books to meals. Not if he actually wants to _read_ them. Which he does.

It might not be so strange, Kakashi tries telling himself, that he's floundering for how to deal with this new issue. Apparently, he lacks some level of need others have when it comes to sex. And who knew? Though it does explain a few things. It's a fact to be considered, like the existence of PMS, or magic being illogical, or cows sometimes kicking because they're ticklish, not mean. Learn. Integrate. Move on. Possibly also figure out where it leaves him, but he's not what just changed, the world is.

So, sex is one thing, but the bigger issue here is still relationships. For which he has learnt no hard facts to apply to situations. No simple rules. Kakashi has no idea how to respond to Hermione's loss of prospective romances, because he never saw himself in that kind of relationship. A year ago, Kakashi's view of married life was that it meant you'd have to keep it together all the time. People got together and got shared apartments and got married and made babies, and he'd never understood _why_. A will to secure one's legacy, maybe. Or they were just better suited for it than him, having some different disposition that made them naturally happy and as such alright with sharing spaces with someone else.

A year ago, it had never crossed Kakashi's mind that relationships could be anything more than polite or fun or constructive. Things like that. It had never crossed his mind that they could offer more. That there could be room for darkness and support and airing out the closed-off corners of your mind. That any of what he has here, with Hermione, could even exist. Not for anyone.

The Maitos were emotional, sure. Kakashi had seen Dai hug Gai more than once when Dai was alive. And Gai was all over the place in a lot of ways, but not weak. _Never weak_. And maybe that's the difference: Kakashi never knew there are relationships where weakness isn't a synonym for shortcoming. If he's honest he's still not sure that's not something unique for Hermione. And possibly her friends. And parents. And Sunna and Þorir, And Krístin and Ingo.

And Kakashi is beginning to feel a bit like he's in a parallel universe, to be honest.

Does people at home have these kind of relationships? Is it only him who's never seen it? Or is it some major cultural difference? Kakashi doesn't even know which one to hope for. With the first, it's all on him and he's the problem. With the second, it won't matter if he's changed; it will only make it worse.

Kakashi has questions, lots of them, only he can't ask. Not here and now, and maybe not later either. He just doesn't know how, or what. Only that the whole thing is upending what he thought were stable foundations and that bringing it up is complicated. Because it's a sore spot for Hermione. And because he doesn't want to rub in how utterly lost he is. And because the parallels between what she described and what they have is ignorable as long as they're not brought into the light. Wanting an academic discussion under those circumstances is naïve. Kakashi is not. He wishes the world would be a simpler place, where they could talk about this without the risk of Hermione feeling he's trying to get details on them. Or something.

It's not like it matters anyway. They need to get going. To the beach. As if surviving the wedding itself wasn't enough.

.oOo.

Hermione stuffs all thoughts of the conversation yesterday into a neatly labelled box in her mind to be considered later. Goes to the beach instead, and lets herself enjoy the day. Watches Ginny takes Kakashi up on her broom, and the windswept buzzing energy he comes down with. Flying, she knows, is not a thing among shinobi, and Hermione thinks he mourns the fact that he can't take a broom up himself. Ginny, on her end, is laughing, saying it's not often she gets to go full speed with someone riding pillion.

The weather's perfect, allowing them to lounge in the sunshine and swim in the ocean. The cove is secluded, framed by high sandstone cliffs and with jagged stones just breaking the surface at the inlet, making it accessible by apparition only and private to their party. It's great. More relaxed than the wedding and with time to really catch up.

She and Kakashi mostly hangs out around Neville, Hanna and Luna, along with the various Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that follow them. Ron sticks to the Gryffindors and Weasleys; and it's a silent agreement that works perfectly.

It's disheartening to hear that muggleborns aren't in a much better position than when they were at school. Sure, no one uses the word mudblood, Neville tells her, but the non-existing introductions are the same. The only thing that seems to have changed at Hogwarts – apart from teachers being able to live off campus – is that the children sorted into Slytherin is having an even harder time than they did fifteen years ago.

"It's just, I don't know, dispiriting," Hermione allows herself to fall back against the sand.

"I know," Neville says. "Sure, we bought a few years, but we're driving new Slytherins straight into the arms of the next dark madman who tells them they're worth something."

"We fought a war for it," Hanna says as she reaches across her fiancée to get a piece of melon, "you'd think that made a difference."

Silence falls with the feel of a collective sigh. Hermione watches the somewhat friendly Quidditch game going on out over the bay. As friendly as it gets with a bunch of professional athletes paired up with school team players, and no judge to call foul play. So not really friendly at all, but at least there's laughter filtering down. Next to her, the pages of Kakashi's book rustle. He hums.

"Should it, though?" he says. When Hermione looks over, he watches them, his head tilted slightly to the side and the book still open in his lap.

Hanna makes a harsh sound, but Neville smoothly cuts in before she can question Kakashi's apparent flippancy. "How do you mean?" he asks, and Hermione can see him as the teacher he is.

Kakashi shrugs, but Hermione can read thoughtfulness in the lines of his brow and jaw. His voice is smooth as he speaks, and it's not strange if Hanna finds him aloof. She doesn't know him. "It's not what you fought _for_, is it? I guess I don't know about the two of you," he gestures to Hanna and Neville, "but I got the picture you fought for you own rights and to take down Voldemort? Why would you expect that to change things for the Slytherins?" He looks skyward for a second before turning back to his book.

It's not an easy question to answer, Hermione finds. He is right, in a way, only not. "I guess," she sits up, looking between the other three, "I figured I fought for my world view, or something like that."

"Exactly," Hanna agrees, and given how she speaks around a mouthful of watermelon she can't be very angry. "I fought for equal rights, for everybody."

"Not everyone did, I don't think." Neville looks out over the beach. Sighs. "I mean, it wasn't exactly our official cause, was it?"

"Maybe not," Hanna agrees, "but it was there, right? We even had Slytherins fighting by our side."

"_Even_," Hermione repeats. The word says a lot. As does how they never invited any Slytherins into DA.

"Don't go all mopey on me," Kakashi nudge her with a knee, his eyes still on his book, "you did win the war you fought."

Hermione doesn't throw a fistful of sand at him; she's quite proud about that. "Yeah, yeah," she says, her mood somewhat lightened, "I just wish we'd spoken out or something, back then. For a lot of marginalized groups really."

"Maa," Kakashi taps a finger against the book, "fighting is fighting and talking is talking."

"You can fight with words," Neville points out.

"It's harder though, isn't it?" Hermione traps her lip between her teeth for a moment, thinking. "Not having an actual physical enemy to throw spells at? I'm not saying I'd ever choose war over debate, but at least there was a clear antagonist to bring down."

Hanna nods, running a hand down her braided hair. "Yeah," she says, "at least none of the Death Eaters were your friends."

"Maybe not ours, but my dad used to play at Malfoy manor as a kid," Neville rests a hand on Hanna's knee. "Snape, Pettigrew and Black all changed sides at one point. We were kids, things hadn't gotten properly complicated for us yet." Hanna lays her hand on Neville's wrist. Something sparks in her eyes.

"And we won't let them," she says. "We can still make sure that never happens to us." Because she's not one to bide her time with things like that; Hanna starts plotting out new recruiting and scheduling policies for the pub. They throw around ideas for how to diversify her staff and make them get to know each other. Which leads them onto things Neville could to in the classroom and at school.

There is something to say, Hermione thinks, for the fierceness of Hufflepuffs. Maybe they should be the ones leading the world. Only they never had a minister of magic. Never a Hogwarts headmaster either. They probably care too much about the people they needed to step on to get there, or simply isn't finding it worth the fight. Which is precisely why they might be right for the job. She throws the idea up in the air and Hanna laughs. "I like it," she says, "as long as you don't make it me."

.oOo.

Ginny is firm. "You're coming with me," she says. "You're going to help me carry stuff." She's a witch, it's hardly needed for someone to come help her carry the barbeque things she and Harry left at their home, but she's hearing none of it. "Nope," she says the moment Hermione opens her mouth, "I'm the bride, you have to do as I say. Now come on."

When Hermione turns to him, Kakashi gives her a slow blinking smile and shoos her away. She's doomed.

The outer door barely has time to swing shut behind them, Hermione still blinded by the dark entryway after the sunlight outside, when Ginny pounces. Or squeals, although Ginny would protest that word so pounces it is. "My God," she says as they step through to the kitchen, "you two are absolutely killing me. I've waited so long to get you alone. _Now spill_."

Hermione isn't sure whether the last part is begged or threatened, but it hardly matters. "There's nothing to spill," she says, knowing full well that Ginny won't care. "Now what do we need, is it all in the fridge?" The cool air flowing out to meet Hermione as she opens the door is balm on her sun heated skin. It's taken away as Ginny sidesteps to close the door and lean against it.

"Look," Ginny grasps Hermione's shoulders, "I get that it's a bit delicate with Ron around, and whatever, but if you're not sleeping together, I'll eat my wedding dress. And that thing's huge."

"We're not sleeping together." Hermione can feel the sunburn on her cheeks deepen into a far more revealing shade. They're not, the way Ginny means it. They're _not_. Only, they sort of are, in the way Ginny doesn't mean, so Hermione's technically lying and, well.

"You so are! I can tell."

"It's not…"

"Oh I know," Ginny cuts her off, a little less loudly, "I know he's going home, and I get if you don't want to make a big deal out of it, but you can still have some fun, right? And good for you, too. He's hot. I mean Harry's got a great body, but he ain't _that_."

It's very lucky that Hermione's not drinking something, meaning only air leaves her mouth. "Ginny!" She can hear her the shrillness of the exclamation mark, and feels like one of those prude historic tv-characters that's about to get turned into something far cooler by the end of the hour. "You're married."

"Yes," Ginny nods, eyes wide in a fake serious look, "I am married. Not blind. Besides, Harry agrees with me."

Hermione squeezes her eyes shut. "You haven't," she says, but knows they have.

"Yep," Ginny's smile is sharp enough that it cuts through the darkness of Hermione's eyelids, "we both think he seems like a good guy, is fun to hang around with, clearly cares about you, and has an awesome body. Can't do more than guess about the face obviously, but I guess you'd know." Hermione doesn't know what on her face reveals her. "Oooh," Ginny singsongs, "you don't. Kinky."

"It's. Not. Like. That." Hermione speaks through clamped up teeth, giving her voice a hissing quality. Forcing her eyes open she meets Ginny's gaze straight on. For a second.

"Then what is it like?" Taking a step to the side Ginny jumps up to sit on the kitchen counter, leans back on her arms and lets her feet swing. "You've obviously got something going on."

It's clear Hermione's being manipulated. The awareness doesn't stop it from working, however. Resignation settles in Hermione's shoulders, making them fall forward. "Why is that obvious?" The question comes out petulant and childish. Crossing her arms over her chest Hermione leans against the fridge.

"Oh come on," Ginny says, her grin back, "does either of you have _any_ personal space where the other is involved? You're, like, constantly within touching distance, and clearly comfortable with it; no unresolved tension as far as I can see." The stainless-steel door is cool as Hermione presses her forehead and cheek against it. There's no need to question Ginny's statement. She's not wrong, Hermione knows that, she just didn't think it was obvious. "Besides," Ginny continues, "if you weren't lying about not sleeping together, I really will eat my wedding dress."

Rolling her head to the side to glance at her far too smug friend, Hermione stifles a groan. "Fine," she says, "you're right." Ginny waves at her to move along, practically bouncing where she sits. "We are sleeping together, okay?" Hermione smiles. "As in actual sleeping," she clarifies, "with pyjamas."

Ginny does not stifle her groan, accentuates it with dramatically dropping her head in her hands instead. "Merlin Granger," she says when she resurfaces, "you're ruining all my fun."

"Sucks to be you." Hermione turns to once again lean her shoulder against the fridge door and reaches out with her free arm to pat Ginny on the head.

"Really though," Ginny says, ducking away from Hermione's hand, "are both of you okay with that? You don't want anything more?" She's serious now, not teasing but checking in.

For a split second the idea of fingers ghosting over her back zaps across Hermione's mind, the question of how Kakashi's skin would feel under her hands. Then the inevitable thing it would lead to, and… "No." She definitely doesn't want that. "Things just aren't like that between us." Hermione shrugs, trying to convey that it's a chemistry thing, not a she's-unreparably-broken-and-will-never-have-that-with-anybody thing. It's more for her own sake than for Ginny, honestly, because she can't have her mind start down that track right now.

Slowly shaking her head, Ginny sighs. "Such a waste," she says.

For all that she keeps laughing and joking with Ginny as they get what they came for, Hermione can't get those words out of her mind. She's a waste, damaged really. She should want more, no matter that Kakashi doesn't. Something's wrong with her.

.oOo.

When the varied pops and cracks of apparition comes, it's in rapid succession. Enough so that when Kakashi's identified the first one as trouble, more is already twisting out of thin air. It would be a good moment to exchange himself for a clone, but while surrounded Kakashi won't risk the visible flicker it would create. Someone else could get hurt. Instead he stands when the others do, calmly with his hands by his side in the flurry of activity. Strategically, being on his feet is far preferable.

The evening's been winding down for a while, tomorrow's work and family life calling most home early. Kakashi wouldn't mind being in bed himself, but he's at least found the last hour to be the most tolerable yet. Almost pleasant even. They've been sitting around a campfire, the sun sinking into the ocean, the sand still warm under Kakashi's feet, and the conversation flowing slowly and easily between long-time friends. Ron's presence has been the one small downside. Small, because Kakashi's not giving him more attention than that.

From that, to this, and Hermione's eyes in the short moment Kakashi meets them are wide and panicking. The attacking group are not idiots – forming a half circle to avoid friendly fire – but they're not professionals either. They all reek of adrenaline and a jumpiness that Kakashi knows is dangerously volatile. They're also cocksure with the knowledge that they outnumber the magicians they're attacking more than four to one. (Not magicians, Hermione would tell him, and Kakashi knows they don't call themselves that, but it shorter and she'll never know what he calls them in his mind anyway.)

They've done a grave miscalculation when it comes to Kakashi, obviously, but _he's_ not going to tell them that.

"Drop your wands," the leader of the gang says, "or the muggle gets it." Kakashi thinks it might be reasonable to play scared but decides against it. There are other things to focus on.

If it'd have been only him and Hermione here, things would be easier. A distraction and a quick shunshin basically. But there's no way he can grab Hermione, and Luna, and Harry, Ginny, Charlie, even Ron, and get out of dodge in a timely manner. The group also can't be trusted for a functioning backup or, unfortunately, to stay out of it all together. It's a tricky situation is all. Watching them react to the command at least gives some hope, because no one follows the order. Wands are lowered, but not dropped.

With the stupid arrogance of people who has yet to learn that every second counts, the attackers spout something along the lines of the Golden Trio finally having gotten complacent and using them and their friends for leverage. Kakashi's not listening. To their tones, sure, reads the threat-level from the agitation in their voices and how they shuffle in the sand. They're clumsy on the unsteady ground. He won't be.

There's simply no way Kakashi's going to stand back and let this play itself out. The risk of Hermione or her friends getting hurt is too high. Practically a guarantee. A plan is beginning to form, as close to following the rules as Kakashi feels is defendable to Tsunade. He just needs someone, one pair of eyes behind one of the masks, to meet his.

"You don't have to do this," Hermione's voice cuts through Kakashi's consciousness and makes him listen to the conversation again. "It won't help you; they'll never make that exchange." Her voice is steel and terror, wrapped into one. It pulls at something in Kakashi's spine, making him feel off-centre. Fighting might be as natural as breathing for him, but she and her friend shouldn't be here. Harry might be a professional of sorts, but he looked as wide-eyed and scared as the rest of them last Kakashi saw him. At this point, he's not taking his eyes off their assailants. "No one needs to die here tonight," Hermione continues, and it's only been a second's pause but seconds count. Only a couple of minutes can have passed since the first apparition rang through the air. Hopefully it'll be over within the next one.

Hope isn't something that has a place in situations like this. It's always better to prepare than to hope. Far more efficient use of time.

Kakashi gets what she's saying, however, even as laughter beats through the air. "Feisty, I like that. But look where you're standing, darling," the man's smirk can be heard through the mask, "we _own_ you, and your blood-traitor friends."

"What makes you think she was talking to you?" Luna says. Her voice is harder than Kakashi thought possible, edged like the kunai he'd like to twist in the man's gut, but this is not the moment to be thinking about any of that. A shinobi doesn't show emotions, and he sure doesn't let them rule him in a fight.

Which this is about to be, because Kakashi just got what he's been waiting for: Eyes.

Genjutsu might never have been his biggest strength. He might have lost the sharingan. It might be across quite a distance and only a fraction of a second of eye contact. But this is someone who has no control over their chakra. Who doesn't even know what a genjutsu _is_. And refinement isn't needed. Kakashi only needs a distraction, for which bluntness works perfectly. A few seconds delay, to disconnect Kakashi's face from what's about to happen. Then the memory of Orochimaru. The killing intent that permeates the air; sharp enough to put the taste of blood on the back of the tongue and so heavy it clogs up airways and freezes limbs.

Jōnin would most likely run towards the feeling, if unleashed in the village. Genin, caught between that instinct and the one to run, usually freeze. Chunin can go either way. On a civilian, Kakashi figured it should get enough of a reaction to cause a distraction. The civilians he's seen at home has run the opposite direction, sometimes screaming. This one apparently doesn't seem to have that immediate reaction to danger hard coded the way people in a hidden village does.

Seconds tick by, agonizing in the way they draw their feet. The new bout of laughter created by Luna hasn't died out yet but it's about to. The short man or tall woman Kakashi got to isn't laughing, but not running either. Damn. Maybe Kakashi was too sloppy; they could be trained better than he thought. Either in some kind of mental arts, even if Hermione says it's rare or...

An aborted motion with a shaking arm. The dull thump of a wand hitting sand. A low, keening sound revealing the person to be male. He sinks to the ground, frantically trying to form words.

If Kakashi hadn't been busy he'd have taken the time to notice that he might have overdone it. He doesn't. Takes the split second when everyone's attention is drawn to the distraction and signs. Ushi, Mi, Hitsuji. Quicker than the eye can catch but aware that the motion itself is noticeable. During the second the mist is pulling in from the sea, confusion is predominant.

Kakashi receives the least attention, muggle as he is. They will never know the mistake they made in that.

There's still enough light that the mist is a dull grey. When it's dense enough that he can't see the sand under his feet, Kakashi henges, then moves.

One shadow clone is all he dares to spare chakra for. Is used to fighting without them either way, but can use twice the speed. Divide and concur, and all that. He only carries four kunai, being at the beach. Lets the clone send three of his through the whiteout as they run. Sends two of his own. Hilts hit their targets with dull thuds, and five enemies are down. It won't be long before the first one tries to apparate out. Kakashi doesn't mean to give them the time to. Feels, smells and listens for where they are.

The first spells are hanging in the air now. It's another waste of time but Kakashi prays Hermione and the others are shielding somehow. He's can't do anything obvious, so no earth walls. Can't raise a solid enough wind shield without using too much chakra and all his concentration.

There's no crashing into the enemy line. Shinobi does no such thing. Kakashi glides through their ranks, steady on his feet and perfectly balanced. He's always been fast, and decent at taijutsu. So much that he needs to constantly check himself. Makes sure to knock them all out. Snaps their wands as he passes. Keeps himself behind them as much as possible. Unseen and out of the line of fire. Someone is about to apparate, is halfway through the turn when Kakashi's kunai tears their hand apart and makes them drop the wand. Before another attempt can be done they're out cold. As is everyone else on their side.

Kakashi releases the clone. Releases the henge. Releases the air in his lungs in a drawn-out exhale. He's out of shape, his heart beating hard in his chest from moving properly for the first time in months and months, but it's not as bad as he would have thought. Physically, he has lost a lot. Not to the point where he can't compensate, he's fought injured and sick and exhausted enough times. This is nothing compared to that, but the feeling of the movements is constantly slightly off from how he remembers them, requiring a little more of him than they should. Chakra-wise, it's made up for by how much easier the mental component flows. Give him a few weeks at home, training with… well, training with someone who's good at taijutsu, and Kakashi thinks he'll be stronger than when he left.

An odd thought that; that being weak might equal more strength. Although not one to linger on now, as he allows the wind to break the mist into wisps and visibility is coming back.

If he wanted to, Kakashi could move back to where he was. Only, they'll find out either way – they'll need to since there will be some cover-up to do – and Kakashi is not above admitting (to himself) that he's always enjoyed how wide people eye's get when they figure out he's not what they thought.

.oOo.

Hermione has known what is happening, to an extent, but she hasn't really _known_. She realizes this when, only a few short seconds after the first man broke down, the fog is clearing out and Kakashi's silhouette emerges. There are slumped shapes on the ground by his feet. Lots of them. He must have been as blind as everyone else, but still took out something like five or six persons a second. Wildly estimated, since she's got no watch and never prioritized counting their numbers. She detachedly wonders if she should be grateful or disappointed she didn't get to see it go down.

Watching Kakashi raise an eyebrow at the wands Hermione's friends is pointing at him, Hermione feels way too calm. Oh, she'll make up for it eventually, she's sure about that, but that's for later. "That," Kakashi says, "is rather impolite." His voice is perfectly normal, dry and piercing like it is when he's joking. Hermione tries to scoop it up, take what's offered and use it to keep her more firmly in place.

At her side, four wands stay raised. Only Luna and Hermione's are lowered. Not pocketed, not here, not until they're all somewhere safe, but held loosely and pointed at the ground. Turning to the others Hermione sees their eyes narrowing and jaws tensing. Ginny glances her way, then marginally relaxes.

"I'd say it's common sense," Charlie says.

Next to him, Luna huffs. "Or naïve?" Quick looks are thrown her way and she shrugs. "What?" she continues. "It's not like you'd be able to beat him. Just look where he's standing."

"Who are you?" Harry says, while at the same time Ginny asks, "Hermione?"

"It's fine," Hermione says. She can hear how unconvincing it would sound, but she can't give them more. It's not her place. Although Kakashi doesn't seem like he's intending to hide it.

"Hatake Kakashi," he says, as casual as if it was any other presentation. Not that the wands are bound to be much of a threat to him given the ease with which he handled the attackers. "Jōnin of Konohagakure. Nice to meet you." He takes a hand from his pocket and makes a two fingered salute. Hermione doesn't know if she should walk over and slap him, bury her face in her hands, or laugh rather desperately.

"A what of what?" Harry's voice is still hard, the lines of his shoulders still rigid.

"A ninja," Luna clarifies. Charlie and Ginny both turn to stare at her. "It was always rather obvious, wasn't it?"

"But they're a myth." Ginny's eyes snap back to Kakashi, who shrugs.

"So's wizards and witches," he says, echoing the conversation he and Hermione once had.

"What's your angle, anyway?" Ron asks before Hermione can get a word in. Kakashi cocks his head, adjusts his stance slightly, and Hermione knows this will end in disaster.

"About perpendicular to the ground I'd say."

It's a feat to be celebrated that Hermione doesn't throw a hex in his direction this time. Red is rising on Ron's throat, which is not a good sign. Luna is doing a poor job of hiding her laughter. There's still a gang of second generation wanna-be Death Eaters lying on the ground, bound to regain consciousness at some point.

"You've been lying to us," Ron says, voice forced out past his teeth. "Why should we trust you?" His hand shifts on his wand the way it does right before he lets the first curse fly.

"He hasn't," she says before things get out of control. "Not directly. And you don't need to trust him, not if you trust me." As she says it, she knows that Ron most likely doesn't. Not anymore. She also knows that he doesn't want to showcase that.

"He could be doing something to you." Ron looks her way only for a moment. His body shifts with tension. "Messing with your mind somehow," he continues. "The Hermione I know wouldn't…"

Hermione certainly doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence. Cuts him off. "I think," she says, feeling the ice in her chest colour her tone of voice, "that we've established you don't know me very well at all, haven't we?" She can feel the eyes of the other two Weasley's on her, and for a split second the anger is pierced through with anxiety. What will they think of her, saying that?

"The real Hermione wouldn't say things like that," Ron says, and she's right back to anger. At him, mostly, but also at herself for ever being with someone like him. He's petty. Jaundiced. Narrow-minded. "We've known each other forever," he continues, as if that means anything at this point. As if that _shouldn't_ mean he knows she can be trusted.

Ron makes a move to turn. Starts to point his wand her way as if including her in the threat. It's a punch in the gut worse than the fight at the shop. This is where they're at, then. She doesn't have time to react before Kakashi speaks. "This," he says, in a voice that's not far off his normal dry one but that stops the air from moving and makes Hermione's skin tighten, "would be where I remind you what happened to the last person who pointed a wand at a friend of mine." It's hard to breath, the way it is in a winter storm only without the chill. Hermione's not scared, exactly, because she trusts Kakashi not only with her life, but with her friends', but she's suddenly irrefutably aware how out of his league they all are. If Kakashi hasn't lifted his hands from his pockets yet, it's because he doesn't have to.

Ron stops halfway through the motion, angry red all the way from his collar to the roots of his ginger hair. "Are you…"

"Stop!" Harry interjects. "Okay? Just _stop_." He reaches out with his left hand and pushes Ron's arm down. It takes some force given the way his muscles flex, but he's both stronger and more stubborn than Ron, and was always the leader of the three of them. With his own wand still trained on Kakashi, Harry turns back towards man in question. "Do these even matter to you at all?"

Kakashi shrugs, back to his laid-back attitude now that Ron's wand is aimed at nothing but sand. "They're weapons," he points out. His rules for kunai practice flashes through Hermione's mind.

"So are water guns," Luna says, "after a fashion." No one pays her much heed.

"Sure," Harry continues, "but do they _matter_?" Hermione watches him as he speaks; his drawn-up shoulders, the fingers of his left hand curling against his leg.

"Would they stop me, you mean?" Kakashi asks. "Yes, if you can hit me. Can you do that before I reach you? Highly unlikely." It's not boasting, the way he says it, it's the simple truth. Hermione doesn't know what to feel about that.

"Okay. Good to know." Harry lowers his wans. Hermione catches the way it trembles slightly. "I'm just going to sit down then." The way he settles – leaning forward, elbows on knees and head lowered between them while forcing deep breaths down his lungs – tells Hermione everything she needs to know. Eventually, this will catch up with her as well.

.oOo.

Kakashi sees and ignores what can only be described as a stink eye from Ron. Vigilance in front of an unknown threat is good, greatly improving one's chances of survival, but Ron is going a little beyond that. Not that it matters much, apart from him taking it out on Hermione. Ron is very lucky, Kakashi thinks, that he's one of the more level-headed shinobi. He'd hate to see what would happen to someone who aimed a weapon at Sakura's family. Or if Naruto caught someone threatening any friend of his.

With Harry on the ground, and Ginny focusing on him, the last Weasley lowers his wand as well. Kakashi turns to Hermione. He was decently sure none of them had been hit, but…

"It's alright," Hermione twitch her lips upward in a smile that's 100 percent fake.

"Yeah," Harry says, the word forced out like it's too big for his throat. "Just a panic attack," he forced down another deep breath, "I'll be helpful in a minute."

Luna takes a step to rest her fingertips against his shoulder blade. "Take your time," she says, "we'll figure something out." Out of the five of them, she looks the calmest, crossing over to Hermione and beckoning Kakashi over. He doesn't care about allowing his feet to slip in the sand. Relaxes instead, in the first time in a long time, and take four short bounces over to them. It's not necessary, per se, but it does put a sour look on Ron's face that it's hard not to enjoy.

Kakashi hasn't really noticed how pale Luna's eyes is, until she catches his and doesn't look away. "Thank you," she says, "for not letting me end up in another dungeon." There's not a single thing mitigating the honesty, not even a hint of a joke, and Kakashi has no idea how to respond to something like that. In the end he nods, once, before looking away.

They get started on putting together the official version of events. Charlie comes over, then Ginny, and later Harry. Ron is still standing to the side, arms crossed, listening and occasionally throwing in a comment. Their support at this stage was never a certainty to Kakashi, they're not _his_ friends after all, making him doubly grateful for it. He simply knows too little of the magical world to make a decent cover-up on his own, and wouldn't be comfortable with using genjutsus to manipulate their memories. Doing it to Hermione would be a decisive no, and she'd hardly agree to the concept in general.

It's decided they'll never be able to convincingly make it look like a duel they won. Instead they'll all have been knocked out in the mysterious mist, only Luna will be a little less knocked out. It is in no way a fool-proof plan, although the only _guaranteed_ way of keeping what happened here to themselves is not something Kakashi is going to propose. Not only wouldn't the idea go over well; he'd rather not do that if it's up to him. Harry assures them however that their minds are unlikely (a word Kakashi feels slightly uncomfortable with) to be searched, especially with the attackers' memories to confirm the events.

Making shadow clones again sucks. Kakashi hates spreading his chakra reserves over several bodies, limiting his range of jutsus and forcing him to keep track of several entities. There are times it's the best plan however, just like earlier. And like now; with Hermione's parents far too accessible at home and there needing to be one of him passed out. Not that he's likely to end up in a situation here that needs more than a third of his chakra, or even a tenth, but it's the principle of the thing. Especially since clones doesn't deal well with unconsciousness.

There is one major perk to the plan: Kakashi can control it so that he's one of the last to wake up, sparing himself most of the chaos.

And chaos it is, with aurors swarming the beach, a photographer being chased away, failed attempts to revive the ones who's genjutsus are still active, and a mix of general confusion and outrage. Given the status of the victims they're not forced to do more than a brief statement at the scene before they're allowed to go home. Celebrity has its upsides, clearly. As does claiming not to know anything about what happened.

"You coming with us?" Hermione asks Luna as they're rounding things off with the aurors on duty. "I mean, you could join the others if you prefer, I just don't think anyone should be going home alone and with your dad away…" She's losing her composure, talking too fast and cutting herself off, reaching up with a hand to pull at her hair. Kakashi knows better than to reach out. Waits for her instead.

"I'd love to," Luna answers, "if I'm not in the way. I can take the couch, of course, or sleep on the floor in your room."

"I'm sure we can figure something out," Hermione says. Behind her, Ginny makes a sound that's trying to be a cough. When Hermione turns around, she makes sure to look very interested in the conversation between her husband and his colleagues. Kakashi guesses he was right about the urgency for Hermione's help earlier.

They make their goodbyes with promises to be in touch the next day. There are way too many hugs, meaning two and a half. The latter being Charlie mostly patting Kakashi's back awkwardly, while clasped hands keep a distance between them. Ron mutters something under his breath to Hermione about being safe while putting up a show of hugging Luna and asking her to keep an eye out. If the situation was any less precarious Kakashi might laugh.

With only an hour left before Sunday turns to Monday, the house is dark when they materialize in the laundry-room. Releasing his last clone Kakashi knows it's been that way for close to an hour. Hermione still throws the door open, half-runs on sloppy feet towards the stairs, and calls out for her parents.

"Mio?" Richards voice is sleep-heavy and confused. A light comes on upstairs. Hermione stops at the bottom step, grabbing the railing. Salt doesn't have a smell, so there's nothing to base his thesis on, but Kakashi thinks she's silently crying.

Only a few short seconds pass before both Hermione's parents, dressed in bathrobes, are coming down the stairs. The hallway light has been turned on, blinding in its contrast to the darkness, and Kakashi was right. Hermione is crying, for real now, sobs tearing through her as her parents draw her in.

"What happened?" Jean says, glancing at Kakashi and Luna standing stiffly in the hallway. There's nothing but worry in her eyes, and not until he sees it does Kakashi realize how prepared he was for accusation. He swallows.

"Death Eaters," Hermione gets out.

The hand Richard hasn't got on his daughter comes up to rub over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he looks from Hermione to Kakashi to Luna and back again. "Is everyone?"

"Everyone's alright," Luna cuts in, her voice still calm. "Scared, but alright."

"But they're gone." Jean says. "They told us…"

"I know what told us," anger is leaking through Hermione's voice, "but there _were_…"

"Easy honey," her mother cuts in, "I'm not arguing." To Kakashi, it sounds awfully alike. However, he's not the best at interpreting these things. "I'm just…" Jean fades out to a shrug.

"Are we safe here?" Richard says before the conversation can continue. "Do we need to do anything? No one's been around to check on the wards for years."

Hermione sighs against his shoulder. "The Ministry's sending someone tomorrow," she says, "but yeah, we should be good." She glances Kakashi's way, but not for long. Neither does she say anything else. Before he can figure out whether he should reassure her, Jean speaks.

"Are you sure," she says, only marginally calmer than before, "what if?"

"We're good." Luna's eyes linger on him longer as she speaks, enough that it might be noticeable to Hermione's parents. It doesn't really matter at this time.

"And everyone's okay?" Richard asks, again.

"No one hurt on our side." Luna confirms. Kakashi looks between her and Hermione. He doesn't want to think about how this evening would have turned out if he hadn't been there, so he avoids it. He also avoids considering the way Hermione's eyes doesn't quite manage to meet his.

"Alright. Okay. I'll go and put on some tea, and we can move this into the living room." Richard pass the weight of his daughter over to his wife and steps into the kitchen. Kakashi's not sure what tea's going to do to help the situation, but he's learning to accept it as a go-to for all the Grangers.

Luna turns to Kakashi, and speaks quietly enough that it just carries over the murmurs of Jean talking to Hermione. "It's a bit weird, isn't it? To be thrown into another family's crisis management?" She still sounds calm, a curious tilt to her head and a small wrinkle between her eyebrows.

"Yes," Kakashi says. He wonders if it's all like this; if shinobi growing up with their parents come home after disastrous missions to this. Probably not.

"Makes me miss my dad." Luna's mouth does a funny half-smile that's not a smile at all.

"Yeah?" Kakashi wonders where this is going, He's not sure he'll know what to do if Luna starts crying too. He's learnt to deal with Hermione, sure, but that's another thing altogether.

"Yeah. He'd know I'm not okay, and tell me all kinds of stupid stories so I'd laugh."

"I might have a stupid story or two?" It's what Kakashi feels should be his answer, and he has nothing else so he goes with it. Not that he thinks his stupid stories would be of the right kind.

Luna laughs, short but warm, and Kakashi feel that he at least doesn't seem to have made anything worse. "Thanks," she says, "but it won't be the same. Could I get a hug instead?"

Of all the people who's not Hermione, Luna is the least weird one to hug. Maybe because she seems to understand him finding it strange. It's also something that Kakashi knows how to do, and it's much easier than talking.

Hugging Luna is very different from hugging Hermione, and also exactly the same. She's built differently, holds herself differently, leaves a little more space between them. Obviously, it doesn't feel _as_ natural. What surprises Kakashi is that it feels natural at all. "How long will it take him to get home?" he asks as Luna lets him go. Mostly to have something to say.

"Oh," her smile is a little more honest this time, "he's already setting up the transport. He'll be here by tomorrow afternoon." She doesn't ask about his parents, and Kakashi is sort of relieved.

.oOo.

Another weird thing about ending up in the middle of the Granger trauma-response, is that Kakashi's used to being there for Hermione. Watching her turn to her parents now, seeking them out for hugs and reassurance, leaves a whirlpool of emptiness in Kakashi's chest he wasn't expecting. It's _good_, is the thing, that she's relying on people who will still be around in four days. It is logical. It shouldn't hurt.

It does.

Maybe, he tells himself, he scared her. Maybe letting her know exactly how easily he could wipe leagues of her people out wasn't the best. Maybe he should have held himself back more, given the others a chance to contribute and feel less outmatched. Only, he couldn't, could he? There's no chance he'd risk her getting hurt, or her friends. Or risk anyone getting away. He wouldn't have done anything different, had he known the outcome, but that doesn't stop it from hurting now.

Kakashi wonders, for a second or five, if he should sleep in the guestroom. The sky outside is lightening, and Hermione still hasn't so much as touched him. Jean has been looking between them, from time to time, but has stayed quiet on the matter. Until she offers Luna the guestroom, which is not on the matter, but also very much is. Luna looks at Hermione, who shrugs, looks at Kakashi only briefly, then turns to the ceiling.

"Huh," Luna says. It's hard to believe that someone with her observational skill would be surprised, but then again; Kakashi hadn't figured out Kurenai and Asuma were a thing until he saw them hold hands. Genma had stared at him when he mentioned it, saying everyone had known for months and that the sharingan must be affecting Kakashi's brain somehow. Not that Kakashi and Hermione is like Asuma and Kurenai were, but whatever. He's not one to judge, is the thing.

As he's about to climb the stairs after the girls, Richard grabs Kakashi's elbow. He lets him stop him, and turns around. "Thank you," he says, as uncompromising as Luna back at the beach. That it's the second time doesn't make Kakashi any better at knowing what to do. "Really," he stresses as Kakashi fails to answer. "Thank you." Him and his wife has been told, with as little detail as was reasonable, that Kakashi got them all out.

When Richard still hasn't let him go, Kakashi shrugs. "It's my job," he says. Which is not entirely true, given his mission parameters, but true enough.

Richard shakes his head, and the way he doesn't look anywhere but at Kakashi is uncomfortable. "No," a small smile accompanies the word, "or maybe, I don't know. But not just for tonight. She's smiling more again."

If it was hard to answer before, it's impossible now. Kakashi's throat is closing up, and even if he had the words, he doesn't think he could get them out. Richard's gotten it all wrong, obviously; Kakashi's getting far more than he's giving here. Besides, can't he see that Hermione's keeping her distance now? That something changed tonight?

Kakashi can't remember his own dad giving hugs. Can't remember any dads giving hugs, actually, apart from Maito Dai. It simply wasn't something respectable fathers did. Kakashi's father had put a hand on his shoulder when he was proud of him, big and heavy with how small Kakashi was at the time. He'd ruffled Kakashi's hair fondly when he was tired or disgruntled. Had let him ride piggyback over the rooftops a few times before he learned to run them himself. Hugs were something mothers did, and couples, and even then they were supposed to be done in private. At home. Hermione has a different view, obviously, and so does her mother. Luna, to an extent, but not really. Because Kakashi has learnt that hugs are a standard greeting here, which is creepy, honestly, but still rather impersonal. They're mostly quick and with careful distancing.

Richard doesn't hug Kakashi like that. He hugs like his daughter. Chest against chest. Sleep-tired but warm. Utterly confusing, leaving Kakashi tense before he reminds himself that can be seen as rude and forces some strain from his muscles. He's still dazed as Richard sends him upstairs. Sure, he knows the Grangers are not like other families he's seen, but that was… Terrifying. Or nice. Or terrifying. Or a little bit of both, maybe. Why can't anyone of these people act like Kakashi expects them to? Hermione's dad shouldn't go around telling him he's happy to have him here, people _don't do_ these things.

It's like suddenly forgetting how to run on water; the ground that used to be stable suddenly shifting underneath his feet. It's like having his mind wiped blank from a genjutsu.

Brushing his teeth goes purely on routine. The fact that Hermione's still scared, or mad, or something, at the forefront of his mind. It sits heavy on his shoulders now, added to by the knowledge her father told him he sees him as part of his family. It's been decades since Kakashi's own family was around, but he doesn't remember things being this confusing around them. Maybe it's a cultural thing, or the fact that he shares no blood with the Grangers. Either way, he stops for a second before exiting the bathroom. Allows himself one long breath.

Hermione's lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. She doesn't react at all when Kakashi closes the door behind him. Sighing doesn't seem suitable, so Kakashi doesn't. "I can sleep on the floor," he offers instead. It feels awkward, standing around like this, and there's a sluggish, heavy feeling in his abdomen making him slightly ill.

Allowing her head to fall to the side, Hermione looks at him. Her face doesn't lose any of its blankness. "That's ridiculous," she says.

"Is it?"

The bedside lamp is painting her face with shadows, making it easy to see how Hermione swallows. Her jaws work around words that never gets said. Kakashi doesn't know whether to berate himself for letting her get this close, or for showing her too much of his life now. What he does know is he can't stand this, whatever it is.

"What's wrong?" he asks, because he needs to know what went sideways. Watches her brow furrowing with the question.

"Nothing's," she cuts herself off. "Let's pretend I didn't say that." There's a resigned quality to her voice. "It's just." She inhales. "I feel ridiculous, okay? I must seem like such a child, completely freaking out when it was over almost before it started, and… I don't want you to think I'm just some silly girl who loses her shit at the least sign of danger but… What if I am? I mean, this is everyday for you, less than that, but for me it was supposed to be done with a decade ago. And any time I start worrying these days, like after the fire, I've been able to tell myself that; that it's _a decade behind me_. The danger's over. Only now it's not. Which sucks. And logically, I know my reaction is fair. Completely reasonable. But I can't stop thinking how I must seem like such a feeble damsel in distress to you. All of us really, with focus on the distress part. And I don't want to be a damsel in distress. Ever."

Kakashi should be used to her streams of consciousness by now, but it still takes a second to get up to speed. It doesn't help that there's tears in her eyes at the end, that she turns on her side and hugs the comforter to her. He has no idea what he's feeling. Can't even tell if the most burning sensation is anger or sadness or something else entirely.

Hermione takes one look at him, then speaks again. "I know, theoretically, that I'm being stupid right now, okay? I just can't _feel_ it. It's like I'm judging myself through your eyes. Which is unfair, I know, to both of us, but I don't know how to stop. I can't help but feel ashamed."

Swallowing back whatever emotion is rising in his throat, Kakashi tries to regroup. So, that's what it was. Shame. He has enough experience with that, to not take too much offense. A little, however, can't be stopped. She knows enough, _should_ know enough, to know better.

As he finally begins to talk, he watches her. "I have been told since before I could walk to keep my tears to myself," he says slowly, "to not let emotions rule me, to not react to life threatening situations with more adrenaline than I can control. You," he pauses. Makes a half-shrug-half-headshake. "Haven't," he settles on. "That's one of the things I like about you. I don't think you're silly for reacting, I think your human." More so than him, most likely, but he keeps that thought to himself. "I froze in the middle of a full-scale war where we were fighting for our entire existence because I was confronted with an old friend who I let down. So, no. I don't judge you." Biting down on his tongue, Kakashi stops right before he tastes blood. It stings enough to take his mind of the fact that Hermione _knows this already_.

Hermione's lower lip is sucked into her mouth, the corners of her lips pulled down. Around her eyes more wrinkles appear. "I feel even more stupid now," she says. "I mean I know these things. Really, I do, it must be shell-chock of something because I can hear myself being completely unreasonable. And I'm sorry about that, okay?" She pauses a moment, slows down. "I'm really sorry."

She holds his gaze for a second, and something in Kakashi releases. Ache is still lingering in its wake, but it's far improved. "It's okay," he tells them both. It has to be.

"I can't help being worried about being seen as clingy and protection-seeking though. That's not the reason I want you around. I want your company, you know?" A hand is extended in Kakashi's direction. He takes the steps to the side of the bed and sits down. Takes it. They've been here before. These insecurities are hardly new, when it comes down to it, just brought back stronger.

"Maa," he says, "and here I'm only around for someone who pities me for my messed-up state of mind and doesn't dare leave me in case I self-destruct."

A small smile plays at Hermione's lips. "Sounds like we'd both need some therapy, doesn't it?" Hearing her say that makes Kakashi realize how much has changed. How much he has changed, and his view of the world.

"I'm about to become Hokage," Kakashi answers, as he lays down next to her, "of course I don't. What would people think?" He says it as a joke, but even so it settles like a small rock in his stomach. Why did he have to remind himself of that? It creates a short silence between them. Hermione puts her head on his shoulder, making her face impossible to read from his angle.

"Sometimes I want to kidnap you, you know." The tone is regulated, still light on the surface but with something underneath. "Make you not go back." She pauses for a second before adding, as an afterthought, "and I don't mean for my sake, even if you're handy in a fight; I have to get back to feeling safe on my own.

Sometimes, Kakashi wishes she would. He wants to get back home, he does. To be able to simply be; to run up walls, and walk over puddles in the street, and not have to mind his movements all the time. He wants real food and the craziness of a hidden town and his friends. It also scares him more than he cares to admit. Because he must be fine then, will have to lock all this away in a box and be normal again. He's just not certain he fully remembers _how_.

.oOo.

Kakashi lays awake, in what has to be called later that morning, after Hermione finally manages to pass out. Her words about not letting him go back still echoes in his head. There's too much left. To many things unresolved and hurting that has only come to the surface these last days. What Hermione told him yesterday, the apparent culmination of things she's been carrying around; it needs time. The one thing Kakashi does not have.

All of it is a mess, is the thing. It's a _huge_ mess, and one that won't be resolved in three days – now that it's officially Monday. The older wounds are now buried under an acute scare, but that doesn't mean they're gone, only that the top layer needs to be fixed first. And there won't be time for either. There never were. Meaning he'll leave Hermione before she is okay. Abandon her, really, when she needs him.

It doesn't bear thinking about, so Kakashi doesn't. Forces it all from his mind and meditates himself to sleep instead, for the few short hours left before the ward-workers come.


End file.
